A Normal Life
by Cosmyk Angel
Summary: The Dursleys die in an accident and the Wizarding World is left believing Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is dead. Little Harry, raised in America, knows nothing about Hogwarts or Voldemort. How will he react when the war comes crashing into his life? HP/GW, RL/NT, BW/FD, HG/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**A Normal Life**

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

Prologue:

June 26, 1985

Harry knew something was wrong. His aunt had left him locked in the cupboard under the stairs while they took Dudley to the circus for his birthday. Normally they took him down the street to old Mrs. Figg's house and she would care for him while they were away, but this time Mrs. Figg had the flu, so after an intense discussion, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had decided he would be okay if they left him locked his cupboard for a couple of hours. They had taken Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend with them.

His stomach rumbled loudly. He wished Aunt Petunia would come back soon. Tears began to leak from his emerald eyes as the urge to urinate had become strong again. Last time, he'd held it as long as he could before it came trickling out into his last pair of clean pants. He wept, knowing Uncle Vernon was going to hit him again for his accident. He curled up miserably on his little cot and began to silently cry.

Harry didn't know how long he had been crying when he heard the front door open and voices began to speak.

"Ann 'Tunia? I nee' use loo." His little voice trembled. The voices stopped suddenly.

"Ann 'Tunia?"

The only response was footsteps approaching. He couldn't hear anything, not Aunt Petunia's strident voice, nor Uncle Vernon's bellowing tones. He couldn't even hear the high pitched voice of his cousin Dudley. What was going on? He started to shake.

"Ann 'Tunia? I-is dat y-you?"

"It's coming from this closet here, Miss Marjorie," An unfamiliar male voice stated.

Harry shrank nervously into the corner of his cupboard. Aunt Marge was here? She wasn't supposed to be here, she was supposed to be on vacation in Ireland. The cupboard door swung open and Harry stared up into the face of an unfamiliar man. A moment later, Aunt Marge's florid face appeared over his shoulder.

"Oh, it's just him. Toss him out on the street. I don't want him. I told Petunia they should've put the little brat in an orphanage when he first showed up on their doorstep," Marge's hateful glare was punctuated with sniffles.

"Do ya want me ta take him ta the orphanage?" The scruffy-looking man asked.

"No, I need you and your partner to help me with packing everything up," just take him down to the park and leave him there," she sniffled some more before glaring at Harry. "Why couldn't it have been you?" She snarled, breaking into heavy sobs again.

Harry squeezed back into the cupboard as far as he could, clutching the little blanket that was all he'd come to the Dursleys with. The scruffy man pulled him out gently and scooped him into his arms, making a face at the soiled, oversized clothing the boy was wearing. Harry felt himself being carried and watched as they exited the house and it began to recede behind them. He shivered fearfully. What had happened to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? Where was Dudley? Tears leaked out of his eyes as he felt another trickle of warm moisture run down his leg.

"Hell boy, what'd ya do that fer?" The man asked, holding him at arm's length.

"Sawwy," Harry mumbled, cringing.

"Never mind, boy," the man said gruffly. A few minutes later, he set Harry down on a wooden bench beside a big grassy field. As the man was turning to leave, Harry called out.

"Pweez, sir, where Ann 'Tunia?"

"Dead. In a car crash. Stay here, I'll come back fer ya when I'm done," the man patted him on the head and turned away. Harry watched the grey-haired man walk away before collapsing into tears. He was all alone now. His mummy and da were dead and now Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley were too. He curled into a ball on the bench, shivering as he sobbed, unaware of the rain beginning to fall.

It was stinging pelts of hail that drew him from his misery. He cried as the marble-sized stones struck his flesh and he scrambled off the bench, looking for shelter. He ran blindly, unable to see. He stumbled and fell, scraping both knees and palms on rough pavement. Before he could get up, there was a brief flash of white light, and then blackness.

)-HP-(

Harry awoke to a dimly lit room. A beeping sound was coming from his left, and he turned his clear green eyes towards it. He could make out a beige blur with flashing colored lights on it, but that was all. Everything else was gray and dim, except the sheet and blanket on his bed which were white. He marveled at the feel of the soft sheets. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was being in his cupboard, waiting for his aunt and uncle and cousin to return. His nose began to itch and he reached up to scratch it only to find his hands covered in white bandages. His heart raced. Where was he? Where was Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon? Where was Dudley?

Harry's fear was so complete, he didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching.

"Ah, I see we are awake, little one, how do you feel this morning?" A lady with a smiling face and a cloud of bright yellow hair asked.

Harry peered up at her, "nose itch."

She laughed, a tinkly bell sound. Her hand reached out, and Harry cringed away from it, shaking. The smile disappeared from her face.

"It's alright. I'm just going to scratch your nose," she reached forward again, slower this time, and rubbed his nose with one delicately manicured finger.

"Where 'm I?" He asked.

"Frimley Park Hospital."

"Wa's dat?"

"You've never been to a hospital?" She pulled up a chair and sat down beside his bed. Her face, what he could see of it, was very pretty; much prettier than Aunt Petunia's.

"Nuh uh."

She looked down at him with concern, "what is your name?"

"Boy."

She sighed, a bit exasperated, "I mean, what does your family call you?"

"Freak," Harry replied, not understanding why she kept asking the same question.

"Do they ever call you anything else?" She was beginning to show signs of agitation.

"Nuh uh. Jus' Boy or Freak."

"Well, I need a name to call you for our records. Are you sure no one has ever called you anything else?"

Harry thought about that for a while. Slowly a faint memory emerged. A laughing man whose face was fuzzy and unclear was holding him up. "I think we have a little Prongs Junior on our hands, Moony."

"I 'member sumun call me Pongs Juu," Harry whispered, tears shining in his eyes. He heard a scratching noise. She was moving a small white stick across a piece of paper. He was fascinated by the grey marks that were appearing on the paper.

"When was this?"

"b'for Ann 'Tunia."

"Ann Tunia? Who is Ann Tunia?" the lady asked.

"I lif wid her."

"Do you know where?"

"In cubburd," Harry whispered.

"Where?"

"In cubburd," his stomach growled. He giggled, and then suddenly stopped, his eyes going wide as he cowered back. He wasn't supposed to giggle.

"Are you hungry?"

Harry just nodded.

"Well, what do you like to eat?"

"I dunno."

"What does Ann Tunia usually give you?"

"Bred an water. Can I haf sum of dat?" Harry turned pleading eyes up at the nurse.

"Sure. I'll be right back." Harry watched as she walked out of the room. He felt scared, but also strangely safe.

)-HP-(

"I think he's been abused, doctor," Malina Stevens brushed a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes as she looked at the clipboard in her hands.

"Why do you say that?" Doctor Lombard asked, his slender fingers reaching for the clipboard.

"He says his name is 'Boy' or 'Freak.' When I asked him what he wanted to eat, he said the person he lived with, an Ann Tunia, gave him bread and water. He cringes away from me when I make a movement toward him, and when he giggled, he immediately stopped and got a scared look on his face," she explained, pushing another lock of hair out of her eyes.

"Okay, I'll call Social Services. Go fix your hair and then head down to the cafeteria. Tell the cook you want something that a small boy might like to eat. Tell her I said it needs to be well-balanced," Doctor Lombard instructed. He took the clipboard from her hands and walked off in the direction of his office.

)-HP-(

Harry's left arm was starting to ache when the pretty lady came back. The tray in her hands was brown and bigger than Aunt Petunia's silver tea service. She was followed by a tall, brown-haired man.

"Well, little one, I brought you some dinner. She pulled a long table over which slid across his bed, then adjusted the back of his bed so he was sitting up. Harry grimaced as he adjusted himself. Whatever was on that tray didn't smell like bread and water. He could feel his stomach rumbling in anticipation. When she removed the lid, he saw a bowl of soup with vegetables in it, a dish filled with fruit pieces, and another small bowl with some brown stuff in it that looked suspiciously like the chocolate pudding Aunt Petunia was always letting Dudley eat. Beside it sat a small cup with a straw sticking out of it. Harry's eyes grew huge.

"I-is dis all for me?" His voice quivered in awe. "I doan haf ta share it?"

The pretty lady smiled down at him. "No, sweetie, it is all for you."

Harry tried to move his arms, and winced. "How I eat wif no hans?" Both arms were still bandaged, the left one trapped against his body in a sling.

"I'll feed you." The lady replied. Harry's eyes grew even bigger. She spooned up some of the soup and held it to his lips as the tall man worked at a metal tower beside his bed with strange bags on it. His arm stopped hurting so much after a few bites and his eyes began to droop.

"I replaced his meds. He probably won't eat any more until he wakes up." Harry heard the man say as he drifted off to sleep.

A/N: the way Harry speaks is specifically written with a delayed four year old in mind; delayed only because of neglect and abuse and not due to lack of intelligence. Little Harry understands a lot more than he can express at this age.

Please let me know what you think. There will only be a few nods toward canon in the book, the most important being his relationship with Ginny & his friendship with Hermione.

I don't have a beta on this one, so if you see any glaring errors, or want to question something, shoot me a PM. I am disabling anonymous reviews. If you want to say something to me, have the nerve to admit who you are.


	2. Chapter 2

A Normal Life

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'

_-To Cartman 1701: I haven't decided how much of his early life I'm going to do yet, but he most likely won't be going to Hogwarts. You will have to wait and see what happens and how he meets Ginny & Hermione. It is much easier to respond when you can PM someone._

**Readers – I am taking a Poll to determine what Harry's new name is going to be. First name only please. Here are a list of options:**

**Samuel (Sam)**

**James **

**Henry**

**Richard**

**Andrew**

**William**

**Please respond by 12/14/12 - Thanks**

Prologue – Part 2:

June 28th, 1985 - Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore sipped at his firewhisky, his purple and orange stocking feet propped up on his desk. He cleared his mind and tried to relax. The last meeting of the Wizengamot had not gone well. Geraldine Stryx, a long sought after death-eater fugitive had been captured and brought before the Wizengamot. They had traced her movements through a series of Muggle pre-schools where she had been kidnapping and killing muggle children, ostensibly to use in experiments. A cousin on the paternal side to Lucius Malfoy, the trial had been a joke. Dumbledore massaged his forehead. The number of Wizengamot supporters Lucius Malfoy controlled increased every year. After everything was said and done, Geraldine Stryx had walked on the basis of 'not enough evidence to convict.' She would be returning to her job in muggle relations tomorrow.

The tapping of an owl on his window startled him so bad; he spilled firewhiskey down the front of his purple robes. Muttering a wandless 'SCOURGIFY,' he moved to open the window. The early summer rain lashed his face as a very bedraggled and thoroughly annoyed owl flew in to land on his desk, a letter on its leg. He shut the window and moved back to his desk, throwing himself unceremoniously into his chair. Dumbledore reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a two small dishes and a bag of owl treats. Muttering spell to summon water, he filled one of the dishes with each before reaching for the letter. The owl, a large Tawny, preened his beard in thanks.

Recognizing Arabella Figg's flowing cursive, he opened it quickly.

Dearest Cousin Albus,

I have drastic news for you. The Dursleys were involved in an automobile accident four days ago. Harry is believed to have been with them. I went round to check anyway, and a Miss Marjorie Dursley verified that all four were killed in the auto accident. I am sorry to have to be the bearer of such terrible tidings.

Love, your cousin,

Arabella Marie Antoinette Figg

Dated June 27th, 1985

The paper fell from his fingertips and a stream of invectives fell from his lips. Pulling open another drawer containing as series of monitoring devices, he found the prism that represented the wards at Privet Drive. It was solid black, no longer a healthy, vibrant blue. He slammed the drawer shut, startling Fawkes who nearly fell off his perch. A loud shriek from the bird voiced his displeasure.

"I'm sorry, my friend," Dumbledore replied, reaching over to stroke the annoyed phoenix.

"Dipsy," he called. There was a *pop*, and suddenly a small house-elf wearing a Hogwarts tea-towel appeared. "Headmaster, Sir, you called for Dipsy?"

"Yes, please go to the offices of Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick and have them come here as soon as possible," he instructed.

"Yes, headmaster, sir, right away, sir," with another *pop* she disappeared.

)-HP-(

July 1st, 1985 – The Burrow:

"Molly." Arthur Weasley's trembling voice echoed through the small house. "Molly, get the kids and come here right away."

Molly could hear the panic in Arthur's voice. She looked into the sitting room. He was sitting in his favorite chair, a folded copy of the Daily Prophet trembling in his hands. She wondered what could possibly have scared her normally gentle husband so badly. She hurried to the stairs.

"Bill, Charlie, gather your brothers and sister and come down to the sitting room right away," she called up.

Bill's head popped out the door of his room. "I'm almost dressed mum, I'll be down with the boys as soon as I can. You might check Ginny and see if she's ready."

Molly hurried up the stairs and slipped into the bedroom of her youngest child. Ginny was cuddled snuggly up to a stuffed quaffle that had once been Charlie's, sound asleep, her little thumb lodged between her tiny pink lips. Molly turned away, a gentle smile on her lips. She'd leave Ginny to sleep for now, she could tell her what was happening later. She tiptoed out of the room, closing it quietly behind her.

When she arrived back downstairs, the boys were gathered around the sitting room. Bill was perched on the sofa holding little Ron and beside him sat Percy, an inquisitive look on his face. Charlie was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a beefy arm wrapped around each of the struggling twins. Molly sat down in her chair behind Charlie, admonishing the twins to behave. They stopped struggling and Charlie loosened his grip ever so slightly. She looked over at her husband. "Ginny is still sleeping; I decided to leave her be. What is going on, Arthur?"

Arthur unfolded the Daily Prophet from the day before and held it up, front page exposed.

BOY WHO LIVED KILLED IN ASONOBILE ACCIDENT

_It has come to our attention, dear readers, that Harry James Potter,  
the boy who lived has died. Yes, that's right folks, Harry Potter is dead._

_It has been confirmed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, _

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, _

_Supreme Mugwump for the International Confederation of Wizards,  
and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, that young Harry Potter  
and his muggle family, the Dursleys were killed in an accident involving  
a muggle asonobile eight days ago. Sources tell us that Mr. Vernon Dursley  
had consumed large quantities of muggle whiskey just before the accident._

_Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge has declared a week of mourning in  
honor of young Mister Potter's memory._

_Geena Babcock, Daily Prophet_

The boys looked grave, Arthur's hands were shaking worse than ever, and Molly burst into tears.

Fourteen year old Bill stood up. "I don't believe it."

"They wouldn't report it if it wasn't true, son," Arthur admonished gently.

"I still don't believe it. There has to be some other explanation. Professor Dumbledore said that He-who-must-not-be-named isn't gone forever. If the Potter boy is the one who is supposed to defeat him, he can't be dead," William answered logically.

"Where did you hear that?" Arthur asked, concerned. This wasn't something he'd heard before.

"I was headed back to get a book I'd left in Professor Snape's office. The door was ajar when I got there and I could hear him talking to Dumbledore. I didn't think it would be good to interrupt them, so I listened, got detention for eavesdropping on Professor Snape. He didn't ask how much I heard. I think he was preoccupied at the time," Bill explained.

"What should we do, Arthur? If the boy is dead and He-who-must-not-be-named does come back, what will we do? We will be one of the first families he targets," Molly asked, voice still laced with tears.

"When that time comes, we will decide. If William is right, we will stand and fight alongside the boy, if he's not, we will decide what to do then," Arthur decided calmly, attempting to soothe his wife.

)-HP-(

The stores and homes of wizarding families across Great Britain hung with swags of mourning black for a month after the news of Harry Potter's untimely demise was announced. The emotional tone of the country was low in most areas, in fact, it was only in a few select homes that the boy's death was being celebrated instead of mourned. Lucius Malfoy's house was one of these places. Narcissa Black Malfoy was in a rather dark mood. She may have supported the ideals and agendas of the Dark Lord and agreed with the idea of pureblood supremacy, but what she didn't condone was her husband's joy at the death of a young boy. It did not matter to her that the boy was a half-blood, nor that he was the Dark Lord's greatest nemesis, what mattered most to her was that a young child, barely younger than her own precious son, had met an early death, and not only that, her husband thought it was something to celebrate.

Narcissa loved children and mourned the fact that after Draco's difficult birth, she could not conceive any more of her own. This made her exceptionally sensitive to the death of any child, regardless of blood status. She slid her chair back from the table where her husband, Lucius and a group of his death-eater cronies were toasting the death of the Potter boy for the tenth time in a row. They'd been going on about it for days, taking turns celebrating at each of the families' houses; she'd had enough. Not even bothering to acknowledge anyone at the table, she swept out of the room in search of her son. She would mourn the boy's loss in private and console herself with the fact that her beautiful boy was happy and healthy.

)-HP-(

Griphook, financial manager for the Potter estate, was confused. In the aftermath of the disappearance of Voldemort, the Potter's will had not been read, and the boy had disappeared from the wizarding world. It was rumored that the boy was in hiding in the muggle world, but they had been unable to gather any information about him, so it came as a great shock to them when his death was announced.

"Marblek, sir, can you look at this?" Griphook placed the folder on the table in front of his superior.

"What is it?" Marblek peered down at Griphook through thick spectacles.

"It's the Potter account, sir, the next of kin hasn't been revealed, and the vault hasn't locked down as normal. I don't understand how this can be," Griphook explained.

"Well, if there was no next of kin, the vault should lock down for twenty years or until the next closest blood relative comes of age, but the parchment should have revealed the name of that person. Are you sure you did the procedure correctly?"

"Yes, sir, I double checked and triple checked my results. The vault is in a state of hibernation, not complete lock down," Griphook was wringing his hands.

"Well, then, your answer is simple, Harry Potter lives. That is the only explanation for why the vault has not locked down," Marblek explained in an exasperated tone.

"Should we inform the ministry?"

"Why? We owe them no favors? Let them think the boy is dead. He's probably better off if they don't get their hands on him anyway,"Marblek answered, going back to his previous work.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'

**Chapter 1: Moving to America**

Two years later, March 14th, – Coeur d'Alene, Idaho

"Here you are Miz Stevens," the white-haired attorney placed a stack of papers in front of her. "This is everything you need to know about your uncle's estate. I suggest you read it thoroughly before signing the documents. Everything he had is now yours, including all of his investments."

"Thank you, Mister Carleton," Malina Stevens replied, sliding the papers into a briefcase, "I'll see you next week then." She turned to the small black-haired boy playing with blocks on the floor, "Come, James, it's time to go."

James stood up, green eyes smiling up at her. "Can we get lunch? I'm starving."

She smiled down at him, "Of course we can, would you like McDonald's or Wendy's?"

"Wendy's please, their nuggets taste better. Can I get a frosty too?"

"We'll see, now pick up your blocks so we can go," she reminded him.

"Oh, right." James turned, glancing at the scattered blocks, wishing there was a way to pick them up faster. He gasped as the blocks began to fly into the box of their own accord.

Malina gasped at the sight of the blocks settling themselves neatly back into the box. This wasn't the first strange thing to happen around little James, so she was used to it by now. She'd decided early on that since he never hurt anyone with his little tricks and didn't even seem to realize he was doing them that she didn't mind. Most of the time it was helpful little things anyway, garbage bags vanishing and appearing in the trash can, dishes shelving themselves or loading into the dishwasher on their own, things of that nature. They only seemed to happen when he was anxious to be off doing something else. She wasn't going to complain, especially after he'd somehow managed to teleport them away from a speeding car that if he was a normal boy would have killed the both of them in that cross-walk two weeks before.

She glanced over at the attorney, concerned that he was going to freak out. She was surprised, therefore, to see a pleased smile on his face.

"Well, that changes things. I think I will bring Professor Andrews with me when I come," he said jovially. At her raised eyebrow, he clarified, "I'll explain more next Friday when we meet at Winston's house." Winston Prewitt had been her mother's uncle-by-marriage. He'd moved to America when she was very young. She had almost forgotten about him totally when the Tribal Law Office had contacted her about his estate.

)-HPHPHP-(

"Mum, why do weird things always happen around me?" James asked as he took a bite of his baked potato. It wasn't his favorite food, but his mother had a rule, if he wanted sweets, he had to eat the healthy stuff first, so instead of French fries with his nuggets, he got a baked potato and a green salad. He shoveled another bite into his mouth, eyeing the chocolate frosty with longing. He wished they had peanut-butter flavored ones. That was his favorite, ever since his mom had taken him to Baskin Robbins for his birthday last year.

"I'm not sure son, I think Mister Carleton knows though, he didn't seem at all surprised when the blocks put themselves away. He said something about bringing a professor with him next time. I'm not sure what that's about, though," she replied, stabbing another forkful of salad.

"Does it make me a freak?" James asked, his old insecurities threatening to surface.

"No, it makes you different, but not a freak. You don't do anything to hurt anyone with your powers, and you saved our lives when that drunk driver nearly ran us down. Just remember, I love you and no matter what happens, I will always love you my Jamie," she stroked a gentle hand over his unruly hair. James relaxed, she always knew just what to say to make him feel better. It had been that way ever since he met her in the hospital.

"Do you think the kids at school will like me?" He asked, scraping the last of the potato from its skin.

"Of course they will. They liked you in Britain, even when you turned Professor Morton's hair blue," his mother comforted him.

"I'm still not sure that was me. I wasn't mad about anything. I liked Professor Morton. I think it may have been that frizzy-haired girl that sat at the back of the class, Hermione I think her name was. He was always criticizing her for being a show-off. I thought it was wrong of him, even if she did get a bit irritating at times, but I don't think I turned his hair blue. I didn't feel that funny feeling I get when something happens," James explained. He'd tried to make friends with the girl, but she seemed offended by how smart he was. He was just beginning to break through her shell when she'd moved.

)-HPHP-(

James was on edge as they waited on the steps of the huge mansion. His mother still looked to be in a state of shock at the size of the place. He checked the Ninja Turtles watch he'd gotten for Christmas, Mister Carleton was late. He sat down on the steps, wondering what his new room was going to look like, and remembering the argument they'd gotten into when she had first told him they were moving to America.

_ "I don't want to move to America. All my friends are here," he'd complained belligerently._

_ "I'm sorry, but my uncle, Winston, has died, and we have inherited his entire estate. Besides," she sighed, "I can't remain in this house. The memories of your dad are too fresh."_

_ James' thoughts had wondered back to that wintery night when Doctor Stevens had been called out to an emergency; the night he never came home. Doctor Stevens was a veterinary doctor who specialized in livestock. He'd been called out to the country to attend a difficult birthing. Three hours later, the Bobbies were knocking at their door. Doctor William Stevens was dead. The coroner said he'd had a congenital heart defect that had previously gone undiagnosed. The stress of assisting the cow had been too much for his heart. He'd died behind the wheel, his beloved Ferrari wrapped around a brightly decorated tree. It had been a closed-casket affair._

_ His mother had been devastated. William had been the love of her life. They had met in medical school, and fallen almost instantly in love. They had been married for three years before Malina discovered she had a hereditary defect that made her incapable of conceiving a child. They'd just decided to adopt, she'd told him, when he came into their lives._

The sound of a car pulling into the gravel drive pulled James out of his reminiscing. He stood up and waited beside his mother as Mister Carleton's black Chevy pickup pulled up. A middle-aged woman was sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

Mister Carleton got out of the car and came around to the passenger's side, assisting the woman, who was much shorter than she looked, from the vehicle. She was short, standing only about three-and-a-half feet tall. Her hair was long, frizzy and ruby colored, and her eyes were dark grey. Her skin was a pale coffee color, evidence that she had some African ancestry somewhere along the line.

He and his mother introduced themselves politely to her as Mister Carleton unlocked the door. James learned that Professor Monica Andrews was the headmistress of a special school in Montana. He felt a little nervous about that idea, but was soon distracted from his worry by the lush opulence of the house.

"Holy Mother –" Malina blurted out upon encountering the foyer, "I-I've never seen such…such opulence in my life!" She peered at a large painting on the wall, "Is that a Rembrandt?"

James' eyes followed hers to the large painting of a sail boat with a bunch of men in it that was being tossed about by stormy seas. Mister Carleton, who'd asked to be called Greg, looked at the painting and laughed, "Yeah, that's the original 'Storm on the Sea of Galilee' by Rembrandt."

The tour through the house took over four hours and by the time they were finished, James was exhausted and hungry. His stomach gurgled loudly, disrupting the conversation his mother was having with Greg.

"Oh my, we really lost track of time, didn't we? I'm sorry Jamie, let's go get some food," she looked at the other two, "we really haven't gotten to talk much about why Professor Andrews is here. Why don't I treat the both of you and we can discuss it over dinner."

Dinner turned out to be IHOP. James loved the fact that he could get pancakes for dinner if he chose, and took advantage of this to order a large stack of pancakes, making sure he included sausage, a tall glass of milk, and a bowl of fresh fruit with his order.

"So," Malina started, "Greg here seems to think you can explain some of the strange things that happen around my son." She looked over at Professor Andrews, eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"Oh, yes, well, James is going to be a wizard, you see," Professor Andrews explained in a matter of fact tone.

"A wizard? Are you serious?" Malina asked.

"Perfectly serious, my dear, witches and wizards are just like everyone else, they just have an extra gift. We know how to train it. That is why Greg brought me here. I am the Headmistress of the Montana School of Magical Learning. We'd like to invite young James here to attend our school when he turns nine. I brought brochures with me as well as some books the two of you might want to read that will explain things better. She placed the items on the table in front of them. The pamphlet was a small tri-fold flyer that gave basic information about the school, including attendance fees, dorm information, sports, and academics. On the front was a picture of a beautiful campus. Beneath the pamphlet, there were three books: _Welcome to the Wizarding World, A Handbook for Muggleborn Witches and Wizards_, _Basic Wizarding Laws Every Witch and Wizard Needs to Know, _and _The History of MSML, What Every Student Should Know Before Attending._

James picked up the first book and started flipping through it as the waitress came to the table with their drinks.

"Oh, _The Iliad,_ I read that in high school, your son must be really smart to be reading that at his age," she said, noticing the book title. Malina just smiled at her as she passed out the drinks, but the moment she left, Malina turned to Professor Andrews.

"What is she talking about?"

"The books have a spell on them so that those without magical blood cannot see them for what they really are. They think they are common historical books. I bespelled these books specifically so that you can read them as long as you are with James. No one else without magical blood can read them. It is part of our way of protecting ourselves from muggles who would fear what they don't understand," Greg explained, "I was muggle-born so I had the same books at his age. Only my father and I could see them for what they were."

"What is a muggle or a muggle-born?" James asked, now more interested in the conversation.

"A muggle is a person without the gene for magic, a muggle-born is someone who has the magic gene, but is born from two parents with no magical capability what so ever. Another term you need to know is squib. A squib is a child born to two magical parents whose own magic gene is dormant or not active. They cannot do magic, but they can see parts of the magical world that people with no magic gene at all cannot see. Through extensive study, we have come to believe that most muggle-born children have had a witch, wizard or squib somewhere in the background. That is one of the reasons why someone like your mother can see around the spells on the books. She may have had an ancestor somewhere in her far past whose carried the magic gene. A witch or wizard is a person who has an active magic gene. A witch or wizard born to two magical parents is considered to be a pureblood if they have at least three generations of magical ancestors on at least one side of their family and two on the other. A half-blood is someone who has one parent who is either a muggle or a muggle-born. A second-generation half-blood is someone whose parents were both magical, but does not have at least 3 generations of magical blood on one side of the family and two on the other. Here in the United States, we don't discriminate against those whose blood is not from pure wizarding lines. The same cannot be said of other countries such as Britain, which in its recent past has had several wars over blood status," Professor Andrews explained.

"Oh. Why isn't there the discrimination in America?" James was curious as to why things would be so different between the two countries.

"Because, for a long time, there were few witches and wizards in America, especially after the witch hunts of the sixteen-hundreds wiped out a large portion of them. The witches and wizards that were left had to marry outside of magical lines, so there are few purebloods left in America and many of those know that it is quite likely their children will have to work with or have friendships or relationships with muggleborns or muggles. We still have a witch or wizard that occasionally turns dark, but the community usually bands together to stamp them out before they can become too powerful," Professor Andrews was using her teaching voice now, but had pitched it low so that it could not be heard beyond the small corner table at which they were sitting.

"Being a witch or wizard doesn't involve invoking the powers of hell does it?" James asked, a little nervous about being labeled a wizard.

"No. We have nothing to do with muggle theology. We have some students who are strictly religious and choose to believe their power comes from their god, but we do not use sacrifices or worship dark beings to attain our power. Read the books, they will explain more. If you have more questions, I placed a bookmark in the bottom book that has my phone number on it. Feel free to call if you have any questions after having read the books."

James and Malina nodded. The rest of the meal passed in relative silence as the two tried to absorb what they had learned so far. At the end of the meal, Malina handed Greg the papers she had signed and asked when she could make an appointment to go over the investments. Everyone departed after setting the next appointment and once again promising to call Professor Andrews if they had any questions.

H++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++P

A/N: NO, before you ask, this is not going to be a Harry/Hermione fic. They will become friends, in fact, they will become as close as siblings like in the book, but their relationship will never go beyond that. Harry will still be with Ginny, you just wait and see what I have planned. (Evil Grin).


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'

_- Thank you to all of my lovely readers and reviewers, your comments keep me inspired, even when they are way off track! -_

**Chapter 2: Perpetuating a Lie**

April 17th, 1987, – Hogwarts, Scotland

"I don't like this, Albus. What do you plan to accomplish anyway?" Minerva McGonagall protested as she sat in the headmaster's office, sucking on a lemon-drop.

"Voldemort will be back. The people must have someone to gather behind," the headmaster replied.

"Potter is dead, how is Longbottom going to be of any help against the Dark Lord?" Severus Snape asked. He was leaning back against the wall, eyeing the bowl of lemon-drops with loathing.

"Longbottom was the other possibility. It's possible that with the right training the boy can still defeat Voldemort when he returns," Albus Dumbledore answered. "Besides, if we don't have someone people can gather behind, I'm afraid we are going to lose many more lives to the Dark Lord. Also, Neville Longbottom is a pureblood so some of the fence sitters are more likely to support him than they would a boy who is half-blood."

"I don't think this is a good idea. Have you even spoken to Augusta Longbottom about it?" Minerva asked.

"Not yet. I'm sure she will agree though once I explain the situation to her."

"I support Minerva in this. This is a bad idea, Albus," Severus stated, biting a licorice snap in half.

"I will take your words under advisement. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting to get to," Albus stood up and walked his professors to the door.

)-HPHPHP-(

Same Day, Longbottom Manor:

"Good evening, Albus. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" Augusta Longbottom held out her hand. Albus shook it gently before taking a seat on the settee.

"I've come to speak with you about Neville," Albus stated.

"Neville? What could you possibly want with him, he's practically a squib?" Augusta asked, settling herself in the armchair across from him and ringing a small bell. A tiny house-elf popped in.

"How can Pipsy serve mistress today?" the little voice squeaked.

"Tea and biscuits, quickly please," Augusta admonished the elderly elf. Pipsy popped out and Augusta turned her attention back to Albus.

"In July of 1980, Sybill Trelawney, granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney, the seer, applied for the position of divination professor. I met with her at the Hog's Head, and while I was there, she gave what is likely the first real prophesy she has ever spoken. It goes as follows:

_**'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ...'**_

"I don't normally take much stock in prophesy, but it was overheard by a death eater interested in gaining favor with Voldemort. We thought because Voldemort went after the Potters that their boy was the chosen one, but after researching it a little more, I have come to believe that Neville is actually the one the prophesy refers to," Albus explained. The little house elf popped in with a tea-tray and proceeded to serve the tea. Albus took a sip and groaned with pleasure at the hot Earl Gray with five sugars and lemon.

"Why would that concern us now? He Who Must Not Be Named is gone, it is apparent that the Potter boy, rest his soul, was the chosen one," Augusta questioned, taking a sip of her tea. Albus winced as she drank the tea down black without any modifications.

"From what I have been able to determine, Voldemort's body was destroyed that night for some reason, but his spirit lives on. I have heard enough rumors to confirm at least that much. Because of this, I have come to believe that Neville has to be the chosen one because if Harry Potter had been the chosen one, he would never have died," Albus pointed out.

"Hmm, are you certain? Neville has shown no signs of accidental magic, it is very likely that the boy is a squib," Augusta pointed out.

"He can't be; his power must be late appearing as he is still down in the books for Hogwarts in 1991."

"Well, if you are certain, what do you want us to do about it?" Augusta asked, placing her cup on her saucer and nibbling at a chocolate biscuit.

"We should let the papers know, but we need to make certain the boy is not spoiled, we don't want him to go down the dark path," Albus explained.

"Have no fear of that, I don't believe in sparing the rod and spoiling the child, and no descendants of mine will ever be allowed to go dark on my watch," Augusta stated vehemently.

Albus smiled, "I'm glad to hear that. I will be in touch then." He stood up and moved to the fire place. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a handful of green powder and tossed it into the fireplace, causing it to flare green. "Daily Prophet Main Office," he exclaimed, stepping into the fireplace and vanishing in a puff of green flames.

)-HPHPHP-(

"What are we going to do, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall asked as they walked down the hall away from the headmaster's office.

Severus glanced at the portraits on the wall and made a nearly unnoticeable gesture with his hand. Suddenly, there was a faint buzzing noise in the air around them. Minerva looked over at him curiously.

"Little anti-eavesdropping spell I came up with once I figured out that Potter and his friends were spying on me," he explained. "If Dumbledore is right about Voldemort not being dead, then we have to prepare. I have to be prepared to return to him and gather information if he comes back, and we need to research what methods he could have used to keep himself alive and what rituals might potentially bring him back to power. If we find that out, we are one step closer to defeating him. I will start this summer."

"That sounds good. I will keep an eye on young Mister Longbottom when he gets to school. I don't doubt Albus is going to do what he thinks best regardless of our advice. If Albus had listened to me in the first place, Harry Potter would never have been placed with those muggles," Minerva replied.

"Who'd he put him with, anyway? He's kept that pretty close to his chest," Severus asked.

"Petunia Dursley. Supposedly she is his only living relative on his mother's side."

"Petunia? She is the worst person he could have placed the boy with. Petunia hated Lily and everything to do with the magical world," Severus exclaimed.

"It's too late to fix things now, the boy's gone."

Severus nodded, "Keep an eye on the Weasley Boy, Bill. I think he has the potential to be a good curse-breaker or hit wizard," he advised.

"I will, thank you," Minerva turned and placed her hand on the door of the transfiguration classroom. "I will speak with you more about this later; I have class in ten minutes." She pulled open the door and entered the classroom. Severus cancelled the spell and continued down to his office, deep in thought.

)-oOo-(

A/N: I have decided that every so often we are going to see what is happening back home in Wizarding Britain, however, the primary focus will always be on James (Harry) in America.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'

_- Thank you to all of my lovely readers and reviewers, your comments keep me inspired, even when they are way off track! -_

**Chapter 3: A Whole New World**

_March 15, 1987 – Coeur d'Alene, Idaho – United States_

James was curled up on the sofa reading "Welcome to the Wizarding World, a Handbook for Muggleborn Witches and Wizards." He could hear the rain pattering softly on the windows, and the scent of chicken noodle soup wafted in from the kitchen, causing his stomach to rumble. He was only a third of the way through the book and he'd taken to keeping a notepad and pen on his lap to make notes or questions on every time he came across something he didn't understand, which was fairly often.

"Hey, mum, listen to this," he called out. His mother wandered in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

"What is it, dear?"

"'Students between the ages of nine and nineteen are not allowed to use magic outside of school unless they are in the privacy of their own homes and no non-informed muggles are present. Magic may only be used by students in public in life threatening situations. Any student caught using magic outside of the confines of their home/school will face a 100 galleon fine for the first offence, a 250 galleon fine plus community service of equal hours for the next offence, and a five hundred galleon offence plus a one-term suspension from school for the third offence." He read on, "any student in violation of the muggle protection laws will be brought before the education council. If they can prove through use of veritaserum and/or memory evaluation that they had a life-threatening reason for using magic, then the above fines/penalties will be waived."

"That's very interesting. I suppose they must put some form of monitoring system on a muggle-born's house when they start school?" His mother replied.

"I assume so. I haven't gotten that far yet," James replied.

"When you are done, I want to read that. I think it is best if I am up to date on all of the wizard laws and customs you are going to have to abide by." She ruffled his unruly black hair and then turned and walked back into the kitchen.

Lunch was a large home-made bread bowl of chicken noodle soup eaten standing around the kitchen counter as his mum hadn't yet gotten around to purchasing kitchen furniture.

When it was over, his mother headed upstairs to shower. She came back down a few minutes later, hair still wet, wearing a black skirt and suit jacket. She had a lilac colored silk blouse underneath the jacket which added a purple tint to her eyes.

"Jimmy, I have a job intereview at Kootenai Medical Center. I'll be home later this afternoon. Greg's daughter Georgiana should be here in a few minutes to babysit you. I expect you to listen to her. She's a witch, so if there are any problems with accidental magic, she knows what to do," she told him, picking up a sleek black purse from the table in the hallway and dropping her house keys into it.

A knock sounded at the door, and she moved to open it.

"Hello, my dear, you must be Georgiana."

"Georgie or George if you please," the tall young woman replied. She wore black jeans and a Def Leppard t-shirt. Her long black hair was pulled back in a tight braid and wrapped with a strip of leather from the end of which a single eagle feather dangled. Her copper skin glistened from the rain and a long, clear crystal hung down the front of her shirt.

James marked his book and set it on the glass coffee table. He moved into the hallway and goggled at the girl in front of him. He'd never seen anyone of Native American descent before, so her appearance was rather a shock to him. His eyes grew huge as he took in the tall woman's appearance. "Is that an eagle feather?" He blurted. His eyes grew wide as he realized his faux pas, "Sorry, that was rude."

"No problem. I don't mind questions as long as they are polite," she smiled down at him and then turned her attention to Melina. "House rules?"

"They are all fairly simple," Melina replied in a heavy British accent, "since the weather is poor, he has to stay indoors, but he can explore anything in the house except my bedroom. He knows not to be rude or belligerent. I should be back in couple of hours unless I have to do paperwork or an orientation. If he gets hungry, there is yogurt and carrot sticks in the fridge."

"That's fine. I doubt he will be any trouble, dad said he was a very polite young man," Georgie replied. "If he has any questions about the magical world, I'd be happy to answer any questions he has," she offered.

James grinned, "you can call me James or Jamie. I don't really like Jimmy much. I have loads of questions for you, George," He could already tell he was going to like this outgoing woman. Melina slipped out the door as James led Georgie into the living room, questions already spilling from his lips.

)-oOo-(

_April 1, 1987 – St. Mungos Hospital, London – Spell Damage Wing_

"I don't think I'm the right person for all of this," Neville whispered to his parents as he sat beside their beds. He glanced around, wary that his grandmother would be returning at any moment. "I don't know what the professor wants me to do, I can't even do any magic. I know you are probably disappointed in me, Grandmum says it would break your hearts if you knew I didn't have any magic." Neville whispered, head down, eyes filled with shame. He was startled when he felt a hand touch his head. His mother's face was blank as usual, but her slender fingers were stroking his hair in a soothing manner. He turned his face into her shoulder and wept. He wept for the loss of his parents, and still more for the responsibility that had suddenly been dumped on his shoulders. He was pulled from his self-pity by the staccato tapping of heels on the marble floor. He sat up and abruptly wiped his eyes. It wouldn't do for his grandmother to see him crying; she was always telling him that only sissies cry. He smiled slightly as he felt him mother tuck one of her Droobles gum wrappers into his hand. He had three jars full of them at home.

He looked up at his grandmother as she entered the curtained-off area. "Come Neville, we must go, we have a meeting with Miss Skeeter from the Prophet in ten minutes," she looked him up and down. "For heaven's sake, have you been crying again?" she demanded, irritated.

"I was just missing mum and dad, and wishing I could be like dad," Neville whispered, knowing that was what she wanted to hear.

"Well, remember, big boys don't cry, however, I'm sure we can have Miss Skeeter spin this to our advantage," she plotted, the vulture on her hat seeming to swoop down on him as she nodded thoughtfully.

A/N:

There will be a bigger time jump after this so we can see what life is like at school for Harry.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_Thanks to my readers for their great reviews. Here is the next chapter for your perusal._

_Also, if anyone knows how to insert a horizontal line that shows up in , I will be sure to thank you on my next chapter if you are kind enough to share the secret for how to do it._

**Chapter 4: On the Bus**

_Greyhound Station, Coeur d'Alene, Idaho Terminal 2-A, August 30, 1989._

The noise from the bus was overwhelming. James stared around, hardly able to take it all in. A tall figure at the front of the bus stood up and tapped the side of his throat with a long crystalline object. "Attention students, quiet please." The noise on the bus trailed off as all of the students turned their attention to the tall lanky man standing at the front of the bus. "Thank you. Now, I am Professor Lupin, junior instructor for your UCDM class. For those of you that don't know what that means, it stands for Understanding and Combating Dark Magic. Before we get started on our journey to the Montana School of Magical Learning, there are a few things you need to be aware of. First, we will be stopping at three rest-areas on our journey. No magic is allowed to be used on the bus or at any time we are at a rest area. Students are allowed to eat snacks, but we ask that you clean up after yourself. A sack lunch will be provided at the second rest stop for all students. If you have brought your own lunch from home, you may choose to eat that instead. Next, there is only one restroom on this bus and only one toilet. It is located at the very back of the bus. There is to be absolutely no pushing or shoving in line if you are waiting. Finally, there is a zero-tolerance when it comes to bullying. This applies both to the bus, and at MSML. Any student found guilty of bullying will receive a week of detention and a conference with parents or guardians. Subsequent offences will result in the student's expulsion from school. There are no third chances. We ask that older students make themselves available to answer any questions new students may have. You may sit anywhere you like, but we ask that there be no horseplay on the bus. Feel free to get to know one another on the trip as you will be spending a great deal of time around each other," the man turned to a person sitting beside him, "This is Miss Eugenia Primm." The young woman stood up, a sour look on her face. "Miss Primm is the current junior-level intern for UCDM and will be assisting me this year. If you have any questions, feel free to ask her."

The girl stood up and nodded, "I ask that anyone wishing to address me call me Jenny or Miss Primm, I do not answer to Eugenia unless forced," she spat the name before resuming her seat. James made a mental note not to get on her bad side as he stared at the UCDM instructor. He had this niggling feeling he'd met the man somewhere before, but he had no idea where or when. His thoughts were interrupted when Professor Lupin spoke up once again, "before we leave, I am going to call roll. When your name is called, please raise your hand. There is to be no talking while I call roll," he consulted the list. "Adams, Tiffany?" A tall girl with wispy blond hair raised her hand. He made a mark beside the name with a pencil before continuing. James listened carefully as each name was called, trying to put a face to each name.

He was so intent on memorizing the faces and names that he was quite startled to hear the instructor call out "Stevens, James."

"Jamie, sir, if you please," he stated raising his hand. He was unprepared for the professor's reaction. Professor Lupin stared at him in shock, the muggle pencil clattering loudly to the floor from his unresponsive fingers. The man stared at him, back at the parchment, then back at him several times.

"Sir, are you alright?" Jenny asked, shaking his shoulder with fingers tinted with scarlet polish.

Lupin jumped, then cleared his throat, "quite alright, the boy just reminded me of someone I once knew." He bent down and picked up the pencil, scribing a mark next to Jamie's name before speaking up once again. The listing of names continued all the way to "Wallace, Terrance," wherein the boy beside him raised his hand politely. Lupin looked down at his list.

"Good, it seems as though everyone is accounted for. Mister Havermeyer, shall we proceed?" He asked the driver. James was surprised to realize that the accent lacing the man's voice was British. It had taken some time to recognize it because he and his mother used the same accent at home, though the man's was much less noticeable, suggesting he'd left Britain quite some time ago.

Mr. Havermeyer nodded and started the engine. James felt as though he was in a rocket ship as the bus blasted out of the terminal. He hurried to fasten the seatbelt, noticing several others around him had made the same decision. He had just fastened his seatbelt when an olive-skinned hand appeared before him.

"Hi, I'm Terry Wallace, I'm from Cheney, Washington," the boy greeted him. Jamie grinned and took the other boy's hand.

"Jamie Stevens, Coeur d'Alene, Idaho," he replied.

"My dad's a wizard. He works in the Muggle Liaison department. My mom's a squib. She teaches kindergarten," Terry began.

"That's cool. My mom is a nurse. She works at Kootenai Medical Center. My dad died in an accident several years back, they are both muggles," James told his new friend.

"Cool, so you know all about the muggle world then?" Terry asked.

"Yep, mom took me just last week to see the movie _Little Monsters_, it was great. It was all about a boy who discovered a world of monsters underneath his bed," James launched into a description of the movie, complete with hand gestures.

"That's awesome. We live in the magical area of Cheney and don't associate with the local muggles much. Mom had a bad experience with some muggle kids in her youth and tries to avoid muggles whenever possible," Terry ran a hand across his short black hair. "Dad says the Department of Muggle Techno-wizardry is trying to come up with a television that will work in magical households. I hope they figure out how, maybe mom will let me watch the muggle television shows sometimes, my older brother says the new _Batman_ movie was really good. Mom wouldn't let him take me to it, said she didn't want me being corrupted by the magical world like he was. He promised he'd rent in on video, whatever that is, and I could watch it when I come to visit him next summer." His excitement and fascination with the muggle world was palpable. James reached down into his school bag and pulled out a stack of thin booklets.

"Here, take these, I think you'll like them. I've already read them all. You can return them when you are done with them. If you like them, I'll let you borrow some more," Jamie offered, pressing the brightly colored stack into his new friends hands.

Terry's eyes widened as he looked at the covers. "What are they?" his asked, voice filled with awe.

"Comic books. These are about a group of superheroes called the X-Men. Let me know what you think of them," Jamie replied, grinning at the look on his friend's face.

"You brought X-Men comics?" A dark face peered over the back of the seat in front of them.

"Yep, thought it might make it feel more like home. Mom bought them for me when I was five, she said it would teach me how to read," Jamie replied. He held out his hand, "Jamie Stevens.

His hand was pumped vigorously up and down by the dark brown hand of the boy in front of him.

"Sam McCord, muggleborn. I'm from Coeur d'Alene, too. Have you lived there long? You sound as though you weren't born around here."

"Actually we moved to America two years ago when mom inherited the Prewitt Mansion from her uncle. We used to live in Britain," Jamie explained.

"Cool. Does it really rain all the time there?"

)-oOo-(

_Platform 9__3__/__4__, London, September 1, 1989 _

"I'm going to miss you, Charlie," Ginny choked out, "I can't wait 'til I'm old enough to go."

"I'll miss you too, Short-stop. I'll write to you as soon as I get to school, I promise." He bent down to kiss the top of her red hair.

"But mum, can't I go too?" Ron whined.

"Not this year, sweetheart. You have to be eleven. That's still two years from now," Molly Weasley tried to soothe her son.

"Cheer up Ronnie-kins, we'll be sure to save you a spot in detention when it's your turn," Fred said cheerfully.

"Fredrick Weasley, you most certainly will not!"

"Aw, mum, he's only joking," George soothed.

Percy knelt down beside his baby brother, "don't be sad, Ron. I get to go to Hogsmeade this year, I'll send you some every-flavor beans, okay?"

Ron smiled up at him through his tears. "You promise?"

"I swear. Now smile and be strong for Ginevra. I have a feeling she's going to miss us a lot. She'll need your help to not feel so lonely," Percy advised.

Ron grinned, feeling proud that Percy thought him responsible enough to keep Ginny entertained. "Okay." He wiped the tears from his eyes and placed his arm around his weeping little sister who was waving goodbye to her four older brothers.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Well, that's the end of that chapter. As you may have noticed, MSML starts two years earlier than Hogwarts. It also goes for two years longer.

Before you ask, Remus Lupin moved to America after he was unable to find work in Magical Britain. The laws concerning the employment of werewolves are not as strict in America as it is in Britain. You will learn more about that in later chapters though.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_Thanks to my readers for their great reviews. Here is the next chapter for your perusal._

_Also, if anyone knows how to insert a horizontal line that shows up in , I will be sure to thank you on my next chapter if you are kind enough to share the secret for how to do it._

_**-I want to thank Fruitality for the 'getting to know each other' idea that appeared in the story 'Lion Unity,' which is a really good story by the way.-**_

_-Wow, I'm on a roll here, you people get two chapters in one week, how's that for cool?- Cosmyk_

**Chapter 5: Montana School of Magical Learning**

_MSML, Lake Fort Peck, Montana – Dorm 3, August 31, 1989_

James bounced up and down on his bed, grinning over at Sam. "How cool is this!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, this place rocks," Sam replied. He wasn't bouncing on his bed, instead he was neatly and meticulously placing his clothing into the chest of drawers on his side of the room.

James hadn't even touched his yet, he was too excited by the idea of actually getting to learn magic after having read about it for the last two years. "Do you know when we get our schedules and tools?" he asked, referring to the magical tools that were a part of every American witch or wizard's supplies.

"Tomorrow at breakfast, I think. I know Professor Duncan said there's some sort of mandatory meet and greet tonight, we can ask him then.

A crackle came over the loudspeaker in the hallway, and they could hear the headmistress' voice through the closed door, "attention students, dinner starts in fifteen minutes, please find your way to the cafeteria at this time, thank you."

"Well, I guess we'd better get going," James said, standing up. "Where did you put that map?"

"Over there," Sam pointed to his desk. James walked over and picked up the map, perusing it carefully as Sam slid his drawers closed.

"Oh, good, it's not too hard to find," James said as his friend looked over his shoulder, "it's right the first door on the left when we get into the main building."

"At least we will never get lost trying to find it," Sam replied, opening the door, "I'll race you to dinner." He darted out the door.

James grinned and raced out the door, stopping only long enough to pull it shut behind him.

"HOLD IT!" a voice commanded as they tore down the stairs, jostling for position. They skidded to a stop and turned. A man in a casual suit was standing at the top of the stairs glaring down at them. "There is no running in the halls, boys. This will be your only warning. The next time you will receive a demerit. Three demerits earn you a detention. Are we understood?"

"Yes, sir," James gasped out, "sorry sir."

"Don't be sorry, just don't do it again," the man admonished.

"Yes, sir," Sam said. They made their way carefully down the stairs and out the door, glancing over their shoulders as they exited.

)-oOo-(

_Hogwarts, August 31, 1989_

"Pomona, are you in here?" Minerva looked around the greenhouse, her nose itching from the heavy floral scent permeating the room.

"Yes, Minnie, I'm back here, watch the Tentacula," Pomona's voice came from further back. Minerva sidestepped an overly-friendly plant with red thorn and flowers that was creeping toward her, and moved further into the foliage. She suppressed a scream, hand over her pounding heart as Pomona's head popped out of the jungle in front of her.

"What a pleasant surprise, Minnie, what brings you here today?" The gray-haired professor asked, moving forward and slapping at a vine that was creeping over Minerva's shoulder.

"I need to speak to you about something, it's very important."

"Well, come on back to my office, we will have complete privacy there," Pomona laced her arm through Minerva's and led her through the zoo of plants, many of which were moving in an animated fashion.

Minerva sighed with relief as she sank into the plush armchair in Pomona's office. Plants that moved of their own accord really freaked her out, not that she'd ever tell Pomona that. She was almost as obsessive about her plants as Hagrid was about his pets.

Pomona closed the door and cast a locking and silencing charm on it. She sat down behind her desk, propping her feet on it. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I recently spoke with Augusta Longbottom. She's almost certain young Neville is a squib, but Albus is convinced he's the real 'Chosen One'. Anyway, Augusta says the boy loves plants. He seems to have a natural affinity with them. I was hoping you'd take the boy under your wing, no matter which house he ends up in. Someone needs to protect him as Albus and Augusta seem determined to make him a celebrity," Minerva's tone was laced with disgust.

"Of course, the poor boy, I remember his father, a more natural affinity with plants I have never seen. I was so glad when he was sorted into my house. It's such a shame what happened to him and Alice, she was one of yours wasn't she?" Pomona asked, plucking a cracker from a small plate on the desk and biting in to it.

"Yes, she was Lily Evan's best friend. It's a shame the lives that were destroyed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Minerva replied.

"I'd be happy to keep my eye on the boy if he's anything like his father," Pomona said, "perhaps I can arrange to drop in and visit Augusta soon."

"Thank you, that poor boy doesn't deserve the responsibility that Albus has placed on his shoulders," Minerva replied. She leaned forward and kissed Pomona on the lips, "I'll see you tonight," she whispered before standing up and leaving.

)-oOo-(

_MSML – Headmaster's Office, August 31, 1989_

"I swear madam, that boy is the spitting image of James Potter," Professor Lupin said, pacing back and forth across the sapphire carpet that covered the headmistress' office.

"Albus Dumbledore swears the boy is dead. Perhaps he is a double, it is said that everyone has a double in this world," the headmistress replied.

"Perhaps…I'd like permission to keep an eye on the boy, just in case. I haven't gotten close enough to see if he has the scar, and I haven't had the opportunity to grill him about his past," Lupin replied, slumping down into a chair.

"Don't harass the boy. If you get the chance to determine if he has the scar or not, we will decide what to do from there, can you imagine the responsibility it would place on his shoulders if he is who you suspect him to be? Albus Dumbledore would go to any lengths to ensure that boy was back under his control. I have heard he's declared a boy by the name of Neville Longbottom to be the 'Chosen One' who will defeat Voldemort _if _or when he returns. Rumor has it that the boy is a squib, but even if he isn't, I don't want know what Dumbledore might decide to do if he finds out about the boy," Monica Andrews decided, fingers steepled atop her desk.

"Very well, I will keep an eye on the boy, but nothing more," Lupin agreed, relieved that she hadn't completely dismissed his theory out of hand.

)-oOo-(

_Later that evening, MSML – Dorm 3 Common Room_

"Good evening, gentlemen. Please have a seat," Professor Duncan said as boys of all ages trickled into the room. James watched from a table beside the fireplace as everyone gathered in the common room. He closed novel and moved to join the rest of the boys in the center of the room.

"Good, now that we are all gathered, let me explain what tonight is all about," he looked at the assembled boys. "I know some of you," he said, referring to the older boys, "have been through this before, so bear with me. The purpose of tonight is for all of you to get to know each other because this dorm will be your home for the next few years. I don't expect you all to become best buddies overnight, but I do expect you to work together and to get along. If you have problems with each other, you need to try to resolve them between yourselves, but if you cannot, I expect you to come to me or Mr. Johnson. Stand up Mr. Johnson," he gestured at a tall black boy sitting in the back. The boy got to his feet and James' eyes bulged. The boy was tall and skinny, taller than anyone James had ever seen before. He had short, tightly curled hair and a dark five-o-clock shadow on his cheeks.

"Mr. Johnson is your dorm supervisor. He is in his final year. He can answer any questions you have or help you with any problems. He's also this year's senior quidditch captain," Professor Duncan explained.

The tall boy gave a stunted bow and hurriedly sat down, obviously uncomfortable with all of the attention.

"Now, an overview of the rest of the rules before we get started, first, bullying is not tolerated for any reason. The consequences of bullying are severe and you are only given two chances. If you are caught bullying twice, you will be expelled. Second, dorm curfew is nine P.M. for students in years one through four, ten P.M. for years five through eight, and eleven P.M. for students in years nine to eleven. You are not allowed to leave your dorms before six A.M. no matter what grade level you are in. Any student caught out after curfew without a signed note from an instructor will receive a demerit. Three demerits are worth a detention. Five will get your parents called, and your tenth demerit will get you suspended from all activities for the rest of the semester, this includes quidditch and other sports teams," he glanced pointedly at a lanky blond boy as he said this.

He took a sip of water before continuing. "Food and drink is allowed in the cafeteria, at the outdoor seating area on the grounds and here in the common room, but only during supervised dorm parties. Littering will get you a demerit. We use muggle recycling bins and trash bins for most things, and we expect you to throw any of your trash in it. Food is not allowed in dorm rooms under any circumstances. If you brought food from home or are on a special diet, bring it to my office and we will put it in a special cupboard with your name on it. The laundry chutes are at the west end of the hall on each floor, use them. Your name should be on all of your clothing and supplies. If it is something you can't put your name on easily, bring it to me and I will mark it for you magically.

You may study in your dorm, the library, here in the common room, or if you need somewhere quiet, we have private study booths just off the cafeteria in the great hall. You cannot practice practical magic with your focus except under instructor supervision. There will be designated practice times posted for each class. If you miss one, you will have to arrange with your instructor to make time. In order to access the private study rooms, any student wishing to enter must press their magical focus to the metal plate on the door. The room will only allow one person to enter at a time. The rooms only allow groups of up to five people, so if you need to study in a group larger than that, you will have to make arrangements to work in a classroom. If you haven't gotten yourself a familiar from the approved list, you will be required to select one by next year. Hexing other students is an automatic detention and a call to your parents. You should only be practicing spells on real people if you are in one of the healing classes, and then only under the supervision of the instructor," he took another sip of water.

"We encourage teamwork and ask that if you have any problems understanding your schoolwork that you ask an upperclassman before going to the instructor as we have much to do. Only if you can't find help from another student should you seek out an instructor. Girls are allowed to visit the common rooms as long as everyone stays respectful and boys are allowed to visit the girls' common rooms. No students of the opposite sex are allowed in dorm rooms at any time, not even sisters," he looked over at a Native-American boy with a feather in his hair. A full posting of rules will be available on the board of each common room in the morning. I will also post tryout times for each of the sports groups as their captains notify me of times. I will hand out class schedules tomorrow at breakfast, but as tomorrow is Friday, regular classes will not start until Monday. For all first years, broom lessons will be Saturday at one P.M. You will learn other forms of magical transportation will be taught in higher grades at designated times. Now, if you could all please pair up with someone you've never met before and get to know them," he prompted.

There was much muttering and shuffling around as everyone paired off. James found himself sitting across from a blond boy of about fifteen.

"Hi, I'm Rodney Erickson, I'm starting seventh year this year, and I love Quidditch," the blond boy introduced himself.

"I'm James Stevens, I'm a first year, and I like comic books and Ninja Turtles," James shook the other boy's hand.

A/N: I have to keep remembering to call him James instead of Harry, LOL.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_**-I want to thank Fruitality for the 'getting to know each other' idea that appeared in the story 'Lion Unity,' which is a really good story by the way.-**_

_-A fan pointed out that Neville would never be known as the Boy Who Lived because he wasn't the one who survived the Killing Curse, so I went back to change that to 'The Chosen One.' Thank you to that fan, you know who you are. - Cosmyk_

**Chapter 6: Accidental Magic and Not So Accidental Magic**

_September 5__th__, 1989 London Girls Academy, London, England_

Hermione Granger sat on the hard seat trying not to fidget. The urge to pee was becoming overwhelming, but she still had twelve questions left on the math exam. She scratched another answer in with her tiny, neat handwriting, crossing her legs as her eyes began to tear. If she left to use the bathroom she wouldn't be able to complete the test and she had to complete it. Mum and Dad were counting on her to have the best grades in her year.

She glanced at the next problem, scribbled in an answer and did the same with the next two questions as well. She focused hard on the final few problems, trying to ignore her body's urgent nagging. She'd never forget to stop at the bathroom before a test again, she promised herself. She didn't notice the crackling in the air around her, nor the fact that her frizzy hair was becoming even frizzier as static electricity gathered around her.

The sound of shattering glass tore her concentration from her test. She looked over at the teacher's desk where the sound had come from. The hourglass on the teacher's desk had exploded, spilling white sand over the edge of the table and onto the floor. Mrs. Lindholt was sitting at her desk, her white hair sticking out in all directions, staring at Hermione in horror.

"P-please turn in your test Miss Granger and go to the office," the teacher's voice came out in a cracked whisper.

Hermione's heart sank as she complied with the professor's instructions. She didn't know why weird things were always happening around her and she hated the fact that they were probably going to have to move. Again. Mum and Dad always handled the news casually and with acceptance, but Hermione secretly feared that they blamed her for all the problems.

It was as she was making her way down the hall to the office that she suddenly realized she no longer had to pee. How weird was that? She sighed. Just another weird event in a series of strange events.

)-oOo-(

_September 6__th__, 1989 Longbottom Manor, Sussex_

Neville squatted on his haunches beside the tiny rose bush. It from a cutting of his mother's favorite bush which had been spliced onto a hardier variety, the resulting bush was intended to be more resistant to magical diseases than the former, but at the moment was not doing as well as it should. Neville thought it was probably suffering transplant shock. He placed his hands on the soil at the base of the plant and closed his eyes. A faint yellow aura surrounded his hands, sinking into the roots and soil below. The plant, which had been looking a bit sickly before, returned to a healthy dark green color.

He smiled faintly as he opened his eyes to examine the small bush which had just the beginnings of a tiny bud beginning to form at its highest point. His family feared he was going to be squib, but he knew he wasn't. He figured his magic was probably more nature based because of his love for plants than practically based. Oh, he was sure that with the right wand he would be able to perform regular magic when he got to Hogwarts, but he didn't think it would ever be that powerful.

A frown overtook the smile as he thought of Headmaster Dumbledore. He didn't know what to think of the man's proclamation that he was the 'Chosen One.' It was definitely a title he had no interest in. Neville didn't think he would ever be able to take the life of another, not matter how evil that person was. He'd been able to feel his magic from a young age and come to understand it. His magic was focused in the arenas of healing and growth, not so much transfiguration or charms, things quite vital for those who used offensive magic. Once he'd discovered that warm little core of magic within him, he'd sought out books in the library to help him better understand the nature of his magic.

"Neville, the headmaster is here, come join us for tea," his grandmother's voice sounded from the terrace.

"I'll be there in a few minutes, I need to wash up," Neville called back.

A few minutes later, Neville entered the drawing room where his Grandmother was having tea with Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Good Afternoon, sir," Neville greeted, his etiquette lessons kicking in. His grandmother smiled at him approvingly. Neville pulled out a chair and sat down. A moment later, Tipsy, their house-elf placed a cup of tea on a saucer in front of him. Neville reached for the tin of chocolate biscuits and helped himself to a generous handful which he then began dipping in his tea.

"Neville," his grandmother began to admonish, but Dumbledore placed his hand on her arm.

"Let the boy have his quirks. He is, after all, the Chosen One. If he wants to dip his biscuits in tea, who are we to stop him. Augusta frowned, but subsided, glowering at Neville.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Augusta again. "The minister is having a Halloween function and I think it would be good for Neville to attend. He needs to get used to his role," the headmaster suggested.

"I'm not sure he's ready for the spotlight this soon. He still has to learn a lot about proper etiquette," she remarked with a frown at her grandson.

"What better way than for him to learn by experience. Come, I must insist," Dumbledore pressed.

"Very well, we will be there," Augusta sighed, wondering if she was going to regret allowing this.

)-oOo-(

_September 6__th__, 1989, the Burrow_

"Give that back, Ron," Ginny shrieked, chasing her brother down the stairs. Ron waved the quidditch magazine above his head in a taunting manner.

"You don't want this, it's a quidditch magazine, girls should play dolls, not sports," Ron teased, unknowingly echoing his mother's feelings.

"Ron Weasley, you come back here with that now! Girls can too like quidditch._ I_ like quidditch. Bill gave it to me and I'm not finished reading it!" Ginny yelled, stumbling and nearly falling over the last step. Her hair was standing on end and a faint red aura of energy surrounded her. She flung her hand at her brother and suddenly he screamed, yellow, winged boogers crawling out of his nose to attach themselves to his face. He dropped the magazine, clutching his face and screaming. Ginny stared in horror, magazine forgotten just as their mum rushed into the room.

"Goodness Ron, What happened?" she asked.

Ron was too busy screaming and trying to pull the slimy yellow bats off his face to do more than point a shaking finger in Ginny's direction. "She did it – mmph," he gagged as a boogie crawled into his mouth.

"Ginevra Weasley, you fix your brother this instant!" Molly demanded, hands on her hips.

"I-I don't know how, I don't even know exactly what I did," Ginny tried to explain.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"It was kind of heat of the moment. I was mad and I just flung my hand out at him. I was trying to grab the magazine back from him, the one Bill gave me," Ginny explained.

Molly scooped up the magazine and frowned down at it. "A quidditch magazine? A QUIDDITCH MAGAZINE? YOU WERE FIGHTING WITH YOUR BROTHER OVER A QUIDDITCH MAGAZINE?" Her voice rose in volume as she shook the magazine. "You fix your brother now, young lady! As for this – this rubbish, I think you have far better things to be doing with your time than reading a quidditch magazine!" She tossed the magazine into the fireplace and Ginny watched it burn, an anguished look on her face.

"Mum, Bill gave that to me!" She wailed, reaching futilely for the tongs, only to have them snatched away by her mother.

"Ginny, please," Ron begged, spitting out the boogie. "I'm sorry!"

Ginny turned to her brother and closed her eyes, concentrating hard on the boogies.

Ron wept with relief as the boogies disappeared. Ginny opened her eyes and felt a wave of relief. She'd have to remember that spell in the future. She made a mental note to figure out how to cast that spell once she had a wand.

"Now, young lady, you apologize to your brother and then go to your room until dinner. While you are up there, I want you to think about proper behavior for a young lady. I don't want to catch you with a quidditch magazine again," Molly commanded.

Ginny's face reddened with anger. She knew she owed her brother an apology, but she hated her mother's high'-handedness and the fact that she was forbidding her to look at quidditch magazines. She'd already decided she wanted to be a chaser like Rose Lipton of the Hollyhead Harpies. "I'm sorry," she mumbled at Ron before whirling and rushing up the stairs, trying to hold back tears.

A/N: Well, that's done. I'd originally written the Ginny scene differently, but realized that the way I'd written it stretched the bounds of credibility and had to rewrite it, so here is the new chapter 6.

Thanks to everyone for their lovely reviews.

-Cosmyk


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_FOR A BIT OF RESPONSE TO A COUPLE OF REVIEWS I COULD NOT RESPOND TO IN PERSON:_

_First, __**SeanHicks4**__: Thanks for the review. How are Ginny and Hermione going to meet Harry if he is in America? Well, you will just have to wait and see…_

_Secondly, to __**suezq21643yahoo**__: I appreciate guest reviews too, it is just harder to respond to them, but here goes: His adopted name is James, but he prefers Jamie, not Jimmy (probably because he has subconscious memories of which he isn't aware of Lily referring to James as Jamie)._

_-Note to my readers: I am going to start skipping some time from here on out, touching only on important details from the past as flashbacks._

**Chapter 7: Quidditch and Other Things**

_MSML – Saturday, September 9__th__, 1989_

"Look at him go."

"Did you see that?"

"Is that a first year?"

Professor Lupin's sharp ears caught the whispers and he turned around to look at the students gathered by the window. There were about fifteen of them crammed together, staring out the window at something taking place outside. Moving to the window, Lupin looked out.

Flying lessons were taking place beyond the window. Most of the students clumsily manipulated their brooms a few feet above the ground, but a group of three students were playing tag in the air, swerving and looping and diving. A blur of movement passed the window and Lupin's sharp eyes identified the rider as James Stevens, the boy he suspected was the son of his childhood friend. The boy led his friends in a series of death defying loops and dives that would put many of the chasers and seekers to shame.

He watched them for several minutes, his mind churning with memories of playing tag with James and Sirius.

)-oOo-(

"I couldn't believe my eyes," Professor Carter whispered across Lupin to Professor Pratchet, "the boy says he's mundaneborn and he's never ridden a broom in his life. If I hadn't seen his file, I would have thought he was pulling one over on me. The teams are going to be fighting to have him as seeker when he turns eleven. I told Bill that he should start teaching the boy about quidditch early, train him up a bit and have him ready for tryouts in his third year. I have never seen anyone fly like that who has never been on a broom before. Hell, I rarely see anyone fly like that with years of experience. The boy's a natural."

Professor Pratchet smirked, "I guess I'll have to go down and watch the next lessons then won't I?" She enjoyed watching quidditch and flying contests, though her clumsiness left her with little skill in that area herself. Professor Lupin made a mental note to attend the next flying lesson himself.

"He's really smart," Mike Peters' baritone broke in. "He's the only first year to really understand the theory behind charms. I know he's already read the book; I glanced at it the other day in class. The whole thing is annotated and the handwriting matches his. He really seems to understand it too. I'll know for sure next week when I set the quiz over what they've read."

"I overheard him explaining transfiguration theory to one of his friends as they were walking out of my class the other day," Sam Riker commented, shoveling stew into his mouth.

"He's quite healthy and fit too," Lupin interjected, "I asked the students to tell me what sort of sports or exercises they do. Apparently he likes to run. He and his mother go running every morning rain or shine from what he tells me. I think she's also a health nut. He said something about her being a nurse, so it doesn't surprise me."

The others nodded. A moment later, Abigail Addams, a slender, black-haired woman with skinny braids sat down at the staff table. "So what's the topic of the night?"

"James Stevens," the writing teacher, Nikki Darcy cut in.

"Black hair, green eyes, Funny scar?" Abigail asked, pulling the tureen of stew towards her.

"That's the one. Did you catch his flying class?"

"No, I was brewing, but I've heard the rumors going around. Is he as good as everyone thinks?" she asked.

"We think with a little training the boy will be ready for professionals right out of school. It would be the first time in fifty years we had a student that the professional teams would be fighting to get their hands on, and not just as a back-up player but as a starter," Theresa Stuart, the astronomy professor added, "the last one was Bob Williams."

"Yeah, but I didn't even last the season, if you recall," Robert Williams replied, "I landed bad after that botched feint and blew out my knee. Even magical healing wasn't able to repair all of the damage."

"That's because the idiot sabotaged it, remember?" his wife, Elizabeth replied, "he was in the pay of U.S. United. It was a huge scandal," she told the others.

"Stevens is really smart, but he's struggling with potions theory. I'm thinking of writing to his mother and suggesting she get him cooking lessons over the summer," Abby said.

The others looked at her oddly.

"What? You haven't noticed that students, especially mundane born students who have a background in cooking tend to do better in potions classes?" She asked, shocked.

"Nope, but then most of us don't teach potions, either," Lupin pointed out.

"True. By the way, if you come by my classroom this evening, I'll have your potion for you," she replied.

)-oOo-(

_September 9__th__, 1989 – Granger Residence, London England_

"Uncle John!" Hermione exclaimed running at her uncle and throwing herself into his arms.

"How's my little princess?" John Stevens asked, scooping up his niece and spinning her around.

"John, what brings you here?" Hamlet Granger asked his brother-in-law, reaching out to hug the man.

"I have to go out of town, so I thought I'd drop Hermione's present off a bit early. I don't know when I will be back and I thought she might want me to drop off her present. It isn't every day our princess turns ten," he pulled a thick package out of his padded jacket and handed it to her. Hermione gave him an odd look, wondering how he'd managed to conceal it inside the coat. She looked up at her dad.

"May I open it now?"

"Why don't you put it on the table and you can open it after dinner. Your mum should be home soon and I'll have supper ready by the time she gets here," he turned to her uncle. "You are staying for dinner aren't you?"

John Stevens sniffed the air, "Cherry cobbler? Of course I'm staying, I wouldn't miss your cobbler for the world. I don't know why you gave up cooking to become a dentist," he laughed.

Hamlet Granger smiled at his friend's words. This was an ongoing argument they'd been having since Uni. "I couldn't stand getting up before dawn every morning just to cook for strangers. Dentistry has much better hours, especially now that Emily and I own our own practice."

John and Hermione both laughed at that. John removed his coat and shoes and they traipsed into the kitchen where Hermione began to set the table using her mother's best china. The sound of the front door slamming startled Hermione, and she dropped the stack of plates. She watched with horror as they tumbled from her hands in a mad dash for the floor. She was completely shocked, therefore, when they stopped in midair and reversed direction, piling themselves back into her hands.

She shrieked and shoved the plates onto the table with shaking hands. With hands over her face and tears spilling from her eyes, she dashed out of the room and up the stairs. John exchanged a worried glance with Hamlet who shrugged, "that's been happening a lot lately."

"What has?" Emily's voice came from the doorway, "what was Hermione crying about?"

"Another bit of weirdness, dear," Hamlet replied, moving to embrace his wife. John rolled his eyes and turned his back to give them a moment of privacy.

"Are you sure she's going to be alright?" Emily whispered.

"She thinks she's the one causing all of these things to happen," Hamlet whispered back.

"What happened this time?"

"She was startled when the front door slammed and dropped the plates – your best china ones, by the way – before they could hit the floor, they stopped, reversed course and piled back into her hands. Weirdest thing I've ever witnessed," John answered, one eyebrow raised in Vulcan fashion.

"I'll go talk to her while you finish up dinner. Call us when it's ready," Emily said, turning toward the stairs.

A/N: Well, that's a wrap as they say, another chapter done. From here on out, we are going to be skipping a bit of time and focusing more on what is going on at Hogwarts with just a little bit of focus on what is going on with Jamie.


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_FOR A BIT OF RESPONSE TO A COUPLE OF REVIEWS I COULD NOT RESPOND TO IN PERSON:_

_**Moi – My dear guest reader, thank you for the lovely reviews, if you want an answer though, you are going to have to sign on because I can't send private messages to guest readers. I liked your foresight and thoughtful reviews. Keep reading ! **___

_Response to a reader who complained about Ginny getting screen time: To those of you who don't like my pairings, you don't have to read my stories. I nearly always ship Harry/Ginny and it is very rare when I don't. I will never ever ship Harry/Hermione, so please don't ask. I also will always develop her as a solid character and not as a tertiary character we only see on rare occasions._

_**Note to one and all: I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU. Sorry about the lateness of the update. I got sick last month during finals week and missed all my finals. I have been really swamped. I will try hard to post regularly again.**_

_-Note to my readers: I am going to start skipping some time from here on out, touching only on important details from the past as flashbacks._

**Chapter 8: Time Marches On**

_Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, September 1, 1992_

Ginny stared around the great hall in awe. She couldn't believe she was finally here. She clutched Luna's hand tightly as they stood with the other first years waiting to be sorted. She really hoped Fred had been pulling her leg when he told her that they put a tickling hex on the first-years in front of the whole school and the longer it was before you wet yourself, the better the house you got into. She really really hoped that wasn't the case as she was very sensitive to tickles. She'd probably be in Slytherin, not that it would be so bad. Her friend Tom was in Slytherin and he said it wasn't such a bad house, but what would her family say. They'd all been sorted into Gryffindor for as long as anyone could remember. Her parents would probably disown her.

She watched as Professor McGonagall carried a stool to the front of the room and placed it before the teachers' table. Maybe this was the seat they had to sit on when they underwent the tickling charm. She began to quake. Luna squeezed her hand and they moved closer together, seeking support from one another. As professor McGonagall moved away, she noticed a dirty, ancient-looking tan hat sitting on the stool. What was that for? She wondered. She listened in astonishment as the hat began to sing. When it was done, Professor McGonagall spoke up: "First years, when I call your name, sit on the stool and place the sorting hat on your head, it will tell you what house you are going to be in." She looked down at her list, "Beatrice Abrahms?" A plump, dark-haired girl pushed to the front. As she passed, Ginny could hear her mumbling, "Betty, never Beatrice." Beatrice sat on the stool and placed the hat on her head. It was barely there for a second before it called out "HUFFLEPUFF." Betty ran toward the Hufflepuff table which was on its feet clapping and cheering. She threw herself into the arms of a plump older boy who hugged her tightly. Ginny heaved a sigh of relief, swearing vengeance on Fred for his lies.

"Collin Creevy?" A blonde boy, shorter than Luna hurried up, his muggle camera bouncing on his chest and a manic grin on his face. He was on the stool for a full minute before the hat called out "HUFFLEPUFF." The excited boy hurried toward the Hufflepuff table, to the sound of more cheers. The list continued for a while with George Harold going to Gryffindor, Luna to Ravenclaw, Demelza Robins to Gryffindor, and Taylor Troxler going to Slytherin. Finally it was Ginny's turn. She hurried forward when McGonagall called her name, and placed the hat on her head. She was surprised to hear it speak to her:

_"Hmm, let me see…Oh, you poor dear. Well, there isn't much I can do about that. Anyway, where to put you…hmm…loyalty, yes, yes…bravery too I see…Lots of brains, could be a good match for Ravenclaw…quite a bit of cunning and ambition too, Slytherin might be a good match for you…" _the hat said in her mind.

_ "I'm not sure I want to go to Slytherin, my family would probably disown me,"_ Ginny thought back to the hat.

_"Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness, but if you are sure you don't want Slytherin then it will have to be_…RAVENCLAW!" The last part was shouted aloud to the room. The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers, and Ginny headed for the table where Luna had scooted aside to make room for her. Ginny slid into the seat beside her friend and glanced over at the Gryffindor table. The twins were clapping politely and didn't seem too surprised, but Ron and Percy were scowling. Ginny shrank a little inside at the disapproval she could feel from them.

)-oOo-(

_MSML, Montana, September 1, 1992:_

"What did you get, James?" his friend, Pedro asked, showing off his new wand. The first three years at MSML were strictly theory and beginning level potions. Students were taken on September 1st of their fourth year to select a magical focus. For most it was a wand or a crystal, but for a small minority it was a dagger, sword, or in extremely rare cases – most often healers – a chalice.

"I got a sword," James replied. The others looked at him expectantly. "I don't have it yet; the Goblins have to make it. I even had to give them a drop of blood to tie the sword to me. I have to use this for now," he held up a small silver dagger.

"What materials are they using?" Jean-Luc asked. He was a muggleborn like James, and like James, he also had a dagger, but unlike him, he would not be upgrading to a sword.

"What, the dagger? It is silver…Oh, you mean the sword, they are making it out of a titanium-copper alloy that is being forged together with lightning-struck quartz. They said I have an affinity with lightning, whatever that means," his friends were staring at him. "What?" he asked defensively.

"It is rare for a sword to be made of two metals, let alone three," Terry Wallace informed him. Terry was one of his best friends. A very smart boy whose parents were both half-bloods, he had an eidetic memory and a weakness for DC comics. He smiled over at Sam, "I got a Tiger-eye crystal, what did you get?"

"I got a Moonstone Chalice. When I picked it out, Professor Williams told me I had an affinity with water and that I might want to go into a healing field. I've been thinking of Magical Veterinary Medicine," Sam McCord replied, passing around his chalice so the others could see it.

The group of boys was sitting in the common room just off of the library. They'd agreed to meet up after the selection and discuss their choices. It was their secondary choice given that the sheets of rain coming down outside prevented an exterior rendezvous. The door opened and a white-blonde head popped in. Seeing them all sitting there, Cassandra White tiptoed in. Even after two full years at MSML, she was still a quiet, timid little girl who rarely spoke. Sam smiled at her and scooted over on the sofa to make room for her, patting the seat beside him. Her face lit with a brilliant smile, and she hurried over to join them. James made a mental note to tease his friend later.

Cassandra sat and turned her pale green eyes toward James. "Have you had any more of those strange dreams?"

"About attacking unicorns? No…" he trailed off, obviously avoiding saying anything else. Pedro caught the pause. "Come on, what else? Nothing serious I hope?"

James shook his head, mumbling something the others couldn't quite catch.

Sam smirked, "he's probably been dreaming about a girl," he teased his friend. Everyone was surprised to see James blush.

The boys began to rib him, but James shook his head. "They aren't _those _kind of dreams. I am dreaming of a girl, but we mostly just talk in our dreams. I don't know if she's real or not. I haven't been able to ask her anything for a while. I can see her in the dreams, but it is as though there is a haze or film between us, quite the weirdest thing I've ever experienced."

"How long have you been having these dreams?" Cassandra asked, her expression worried.

"Almost two years now. She says her name is Ginny and she lives in England," James replied.

Terry gasped and hurried out of the room.

"What's up with him?" Sam queried.

Everyone else shrugged, then turned back to James.

"What does she look like?" Pedro asked.

"She's really beautiful. She has long red hair, the color of the evening sunset, you know when it is this brilliant scarlet and orange color and eyes as brown as that chocolate Professor Lupin is always chewing on. She tall and has an athletic figure. She's about my age, or maybe Cassie's, and she loves Quidditch as much as I do," James sighed.

"Ooh, I think someone's in lurve," Jean-Luc teased, sipping a bottle of Pepsi.

James blushed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well…" his eyes fell on Sam and Cassandra. "What about Sam and Cassie?"

"Oh, we already know we are meant to be, so teasing us won't do you any good," Cassie replied, turning adoring eyes on Sam. Sam just blushed, but stayed silent. Terry rushed back into the room and shoved a tome into James' hands.

"I found it. Read the section on soul-bonds. I've marked it for you," He gasped out, wheezing.

James looked down at the cover, it was titled: _A Dissertation of the History of Bonds in the Magical World. _ It was written by someone named Teeny Tyler.

)-oOo-(

_Stevens' residence, Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, September 2__nd__, 1992_

Malina was lying on the couch with her feet propped up on the edge of the couch, reading the latest J.D. Robb novel when the mail slot clicked. A moment later, Millivera, the house-elf housekeeper walked into the room, a crisp white apron over her regular black dress.

"Mail's come for you, ma'am. I think there's something from Gringotts America here," she informed Malina, holding up a parchment envelope with a large overlapping GA in red wax. Malina marked her page and carefully placed the book on the coffee table, pulling her legs off the arm of the couch as she did so. She took the envelope and opened it, perusing its contents.

_Madam Stevens,_

_It has come to our attention that your adopted son, James needs to come in for an inheritance test. We will give you further information when you arrive. Please reply as to the most convenient time to bring your son in for the test. This must be done as soon as possible._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Gridlok Hammerhand, President, Gringotts America_

Malina dropped the letter in shock. Millivera picked it up and placed it on the coffee table beside the book, and then snapped her fingers summoning paper and pen. Smiling her thanks, Malina took them from her and began forming her reply.

)_

A/N: Well, folks that's another chapter. Sorry about the delay. Will try to update more frequently.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_Just a note: If I cannot reply to you in person about your review, then I won't reply at all, so if you expect a reply, turn on your private messaging._

_**So, Ginny is in Ravenclaw. I felt that she probably was a lot like Harry in that she had a lot of traits of all of the houses, enough said. **_

_***Sorry about the late update, will try to update more often (no promises).**_

_-Note to my readers: I am going to start skipping some time from here on out, touching only on important details from the past as flashbacks._

**Chapter 9: My Friend, Tom**

_Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, England. October 15__th__, 1992, evening._

Ginny sat on her bed, knees drawn up nearly to her chest. Her eyes were shadowed and faint stress lines tickled the corners of her eyes. She dipped her quill in the inkpot on her night table and pressed it to the page of the black diary in her lap.

**Dear Tom,**

** Today has been a strange and stressful day. I lost a whole hour again, I'm beginning to think I'm losing my mind.**

_ I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. You probably just dozed off. I used to do that quite often in my first year. I think it was the stress of learning unfamiliar magic._

** There was a big panic here today. Someone opened the Chamber of Secrets again and Filch's cat was petrified.**

_ Who is Filch again?_

** Filch is the squib caretaker for the castle. He has a kneazel that helps him patrol the halls. She was found hanging from the ceiling on the second floor today. Penny said there was writing on the wall in something that looked like blood. It said: "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the Heir beware."**

_That's very odd. Penny is the fifth year who befriended you right?_

** Yes, she's the one with a crush on my brother, Percy. She's been trying to convince him that there is nothing wrong with me being in Ravenclaw.**

_There is nothing wrong with Ravenclaw, even though they are perhaps overly studious. Why didn't the hat put you in Slytherin? Some of the pranks you have pulled on your brothers are quite worthy of Slytherin._

**It thought about it, but I asked it not to. I don't think my family would understand. You and I know Slytherins aren't always evil, but there would be no convincing my mother of that. She sent me a howler when she found out I wasn't in Gryffindor.**

_That's too bad, I bet if you had been in Slytherin you would have a lot more friends your age than that silly girl, Luna._

**Luna isn't silly, she just has a big imagination. It helps her cope with the loss of her mother. Just because something hasn't been proven to exist doesn't mean that it doesn't! I won't tolerate anyone putting Luna down.**

_Sorry, I didn't mean it offensively. How are your brothers treating you?_

**I think Percy might be thawing a bit, but Ron is still being a git. The twins are fine with me being in Ravenclaw, I just don't get to see them much because we are in different houses and different years and what boy wants to be hanging out with his younger sister?**

_If you were my sister I would hang out with you._

**That is because you are my friend. I just wish the older girls didn't look down on me so much for being poor.**

_That is the way of the world. The rich have the power and the poor must bow to their wishes._

** That doesn't seem right. Shouldn't everyone be equal?**

_Not necessarily, if you have power, whether magically or monetarily, you have the right to make the rules._

**That doesn't seem right, why should might make right?**

_Why should those less fortunate have the right to dictate the lives of others just because they are not privileged enough to have what others have?_

**Hmm, I don't know. I still think it doesn't sound right. **

_Why don't you think about it for a while, go to sleep now._

**Yeah, I am feeling a bit tired. Goodnight Tom.**

_Goodnight Ginny._

)-oOo-(

_Gringotts America, Seattle Branch, October 31, 1992_

"Thank you for coming Ms. Stevens, My name is Gridlok Hammerhand, I am the senior manager for Gringotts America. I presume your son will be arriving soon?"

Malina bowed formally to him, "I am Malina Stevens, and I am honored to meet with you today," she replied in formal goblin greeting, "my son should be here soon. One of his professors is escorting him."

She had barely finished speaking when the door opened and a goblin entered. He bowed formally to both of them. "Greetings Honored Gridlok, madam, I am Briknik Thornfist of Gringotts International, has my client arrived yet?"

Gridlok shook his head. "Not yet, he is being escorted from MSML by a professor and will likely be arriving shortly. This is his adoptive mother, Ms. Malina Stevens," he gestured to Malina who had seated herself quietly in an ornate chair against the wall.

Briknik bowed low to her, "I am honored to meet the esteemed mother of my client," he gave the formal goblin greeting. Malina smiled and began to rise, but Gridlok gestured her back to her seat, "you have no need to rise, madam, a proper greeting will suffice in this instance, he advised kindly.

Malina smiled thankfully at him and then turned her attention back to Briknik, "I also am honored by your presence, Sir Briknik."

The door opened once more and a young goblin in a security uniform stepped inside. He bowed low and then said, "If it please your exaltedness, your client and his companion have arrived."

Gridlok nodded, "show them in and then send to the elves for refreshments."

The younger goblin bowed again and backed out of the room. A moment later, Jamie entered, followed by a tall, thirty-ish man with grey streaks in his sandy brown hair.

Malina heard the professor murmur to Jamie: "bow at the waist and then greet them formally as I have instructed you."

Jamie bowed low, "greetings, honored Gridlok, I am Jamie Stevens, and this is my professor, Remus Lupin. I have come as you requested," he turned to Malina, "greetings honored mother." Turning back to Gridlok he made a single significant glance at Briknik, "if it please you, may I be introduced to your other guest?"

Lupin winced at the bold request but was startled when Gridlok laughed. "Have no fear, honored Professor, the boy has not insulted us, he is actually much politer than many of our customers. However, in the future, young one," he said, addressing Jamie, "it is considered impolite in Goblin society to ask for an introduction, you must wait for the person to be introduced to you."

Jamie blushed and nodded, "thank you sir, for the correction. I will remember it as I have no wish to offend."

Gridlok laughed, "quite the diplomat, boy, have you thought of politics as a career?"

Jamie shook his head, "I am not sure I could be ruthless enough for the arena of politics, I see myself more as a teacher, like the Professor."

Gridlok and Briknik both laughed at that, noting the look of admiration the boy had for his instructor. "I am honored to meet with both of you, this is Briknik Thornfist of Gringotts International," at Lupin's confused look, he clarified, "Gringotts international is an obscure branch that deals solely with international issues. He is here because when young Mr. Stevens came to have his sword linked to him, he was required to submit three drops of blood for the sealing ritual and something very unusual happened. "Tell me my boy, did you read the runes on the blade of your sword?"

"Uh, no sir, I just received it last week. We are using the dagger until such time as I am proficient in the safe wielding of the sword. I have not yet taken it out of the box." Jamie shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wondering what had happened with his sword.

Briknik stepped forward, "when young Mr. Steven's blood touched the sword, four symbols appeared on the hilt and blade of the sword, a coat of arms with a sword and wand crossed above the words "defend and protect," a coat of arms with a rampant gold griffin on a red background," he nodded at Lupin's raised eyebrows. Lupin sank into an empty chair beside Malina, stunned. The goblin continued, a slight smirk on his face, "there was also the Peverell coat of arms and a small green and silver snake. Do you know what these things mean?" Jamie and Malina shook their heads as Professor Lupin nodded. Briknik smiled at the werewolf, "perhaps you will be kind enough to explain to the boy."

Lupin, still in shock, nodded and cleared his throat, his eyes watery. "The first symbol, the sword and wand crossed, that is –" he cleared his throat again, "that is the Potter family crest." Tears spilled down his face, "the gold griffin on the red background represents the house of Griffindor, and means you are the heir to the house of Griffindor through your father, your real father," he clarified at Jamie's startled look. "The Peverell coat of arms ties in with that as six hundred years ago Ariadne Peverell, the granddaughter of Ignotus Peverell married the first Hadrian Potter. The silver and green snake is what throws me as it is the symbol of the house of Slytherin and that line is thought to be extinct. How you would be connected to that family I don't understand." He looked at the goblins for answers.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, does this have something to do with my real parents, sir? How do you know all of this?" Jamie plied his professor with questions.

Briknik spoke up, "The professor was, I believe, a friend of your real father, James Potter. If I recall my information correctly, he did an extensive study of the history of the Potter family at your father's behest." Lupin nodded in confirmation and Briknik continued, "Ignotus Peverell married Susanna Griffindor, the great granddaughter of Godrick Griffindor, a famous British wizard, and one of the founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scottland. Ignotus Peverell was the last of three brothers who are famous in wizarding legend. His brother Cadmus also had a daughter, but his name ended sooner when his fourteen year old daughter was forced into marriage to Draven Gaunt, grandson of Salazar Slytherin's second eldest son. Ignotus and Susanna had only one child, a boy named Charlus. He married the youngest daughter of house Longbottom. Their only child was Ariadne as Charlus's wife and unborn second child died in an accident. You are descended from Griffindor and Peverell through Hadrian and Ariadne Potter." He paused as a house-elf popped in bearing a tray of refreshments. Everyone helped themselves to the refreshments and tried to absorb the information they had received.

Jamie pondered for a while, "so if this James Potter, whom I can assume from Professor Lupin was a friend of his, was my father, who was my mother?"

"Your mother was Lily Evans Potter, she was also a friend of mine," Lupin whispered hoarsely, taking a sip of Sprite from the aluminum can in his hand.

"That is correct," Briknik replied, "Lily Evans Potter is your connection to Salazar Slytherin." There was dead silence broken only by the sound of an aluminum can crashing to the stone floor. Lupin stared at the goblin in shock for a moment before pointing his wand at the mess on the floor, "scourgify." The can and the spilled soda vanished, leaving behind pristine marble. Briknik cleared his throat and continued, "Lily Evans is descended through her mother's side directly to Salazar Slytherin's disowned third son."

"Why was he disowned?" Jamie asked, curiously.

"He was disowned for marrying a squib. His father felt it to be the height of dishonor for his son to marry someone with no magic in their blood. They disappeared into the muggle world where they became the Selvartnams. Their only child, a squib son, founded the house of Selvartnam, a very obscure British Barony. Your grandmother, Denise Selvartnam Evans was the last of House Selvartnam who has not produced a witch or wizard until your mother," Briknik explained.

"So what does this mean for Jamie?" Malina asked, overwhelmed with information.

"It means that Harry, sorry, _Jamie_ here is the direct descendant to four magical families," Lupin explained.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Jamie asked, his twelve-year old mind thoroughly confused with information overload.

"He means that your original name, before your adoption was Hadrian James Potter of the Ancient and Noble house of Potter," Gridlok replied, "and that brings us to why we are here today. "On November 5th, 1981, we sealed your family vault as per directive 99, which states that when there is no of-age heir, the main vault will be sealed and a trust vault set up for any minor children until the heir comes of age at seventeen. Last month, the British Ministry of Magic passed a law claiming the uninherited vaults of all families thought to be extinct in the male line. Had your blood-bonding to your sword not alerted us to the fact that the Potter heir was still alive, we would have been forced to turn the contents of the vault over to the Ministry of Magic in Britain, as it is, we have managed to stall them by informing them we must deal with all vaults in alphabetical order, starting with the oldest unclaimed vaults first," he grinned evilly. "The only way we can circumvent this is by you officially claiming your heritage. Though you will not be able to enter the primary vault until you are seventeen, your adoptive mother will be sent yearly statements about your accounts and you will have access to the trust vault which was set aside to support you until your seventeenth birthday. Are you prepared to do this?"

Jamie thought about this for a while, "Yes, sir, though I would prefer to still be called Jamie, it is what I'm used to, and I'd prefer it if we didn't tell anyone else about this."

"That is acceptable. By law, we are required to inform the Ministry of Magic in Britain that an heir has been found, but we are not required to divulge the whereabouts of said heir. We can also transfer all funds to American vaults if you would like. This will make it impossible for the British Magical Government to take control of the vault as it belongs to an American Citizen." Briknik replied, a feral grin on his face.

"That sounds like the best idea, Jamie," his mother suggested in a quiet voice. "Professor Lupin can explain anything we don't understand, I'm sure, and perhaps he will even be willing to tell you about your real parents."

Lupin nodded, "I would be honored to. Lily and James were two of my best friends, and I would love nothing more than to tell you about them."

"Very well then, shall we proceed with the reading of the Potter will?" Gridlok asked.

"Will? James and Lily wrote a will? How was it not read after their deaths?" Lupin growled.

"Albus Dumbledore used his authority as Supreme Mugwump to have their will sealed until such time as their son came of age. It isn't done often, but there is a precedent." Gridlok replied, pulling out a scroll of parchment.

"How could he do that? I thought only a child's legal guardian had that authority?" Lupin's voice dripped with anger.

"When Mr. Black was thrown into Azkaban, the Wizengamot determined he was not capable of being a guardian to the child, Mr. Dumbledore appointed himself guardian." Gridlok explained.

"But I thought Aunt Petunia would have been appointed my guardian," Jamie replied. He had few memories of his time before the hospital, but it seemed logical to him that Aunt Petunia would have been his guardian. He had been living with her after all.

"Actually Mr. Potter-Stevens, due to the fact that you mother and father expressly forbade you being placed with her sister upon the even of their deaths, she could not legally become your guardian. Normally, as second on the list of possible guardians, it would have fallen to Mr. Lupin to be your guardian, but British Wizarding society has passed many anti-werewolf laws making it impossible for werewolves to own land or guardianship of non-werewolf children, therefore Mr. Dumbledore was able to appoint himself your guardian." Briknik rolled his eyes at the idiodicy of British Wizards. Nowhere else in the world were non-humans treated as poorly as in Britain.

"Can that be changed? I don't like the idea of some foreign wizard with an unknown agenda having control over my son's life," Malina rose and began pacing back and forth. Jamie knew she was furious. She always paced when she was furious.

"That won't be necessary, madam," Briknik replied. "The moment the British Muggle court system granted you legal adoption of young Harry, you became his legal guardian."

"Oh." His mother sank back into her chair. "I'm glad of that. What must we do to initiate the transfer?"

Gridlok grinned, "after I have read the will, I will get out the contracts. You and young Jamie must sign them with a blood-quill. Mr. Lupin can sign as a witness."

"A blood-quill?" Malina asked, her voice faint.

"A blood-quill is a pen which you use to sign legal documents. It uses the person's own blood to sign the quill with, preventing forgery or falsification of the documents. A blood-quill is illegal to use in every country except for the purpose of signing any legal documents," Professor Lupin explained.

"Very well, please begin." Malina nodded, still a bit overwhelmed.

Gridlok nodded and cleared his throat, unrolling the parchment before him.

_WE, JAMES CHARLUS POTTER, AND LILY MARIE EVANS POTTER, BEING OF SOUND MIND AND HEALTHY BODY DO DECLARE THAT THIS IS OUR LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT. NATURALLY WE HOPE THAT WE WILL SURVIVE THIS WAR AND RAISE HARRY OURSELVES, BUT SHOULD THE WORST HAPPEN, WE APPOINT SIRIUS ORION BLACK, GODFATHER TO HARRY JAMES POTTER AS HIS LEGAL GUARDIAN, GUARD HIM WELL, PADFOOT. SHOULD THE WORST HAPPEN AND SIRIUS NOT BE AVAILABLE TO CARE FOR OUR SON, WE ASK THAT REMUS JOHN LUPIN BE GIVEN CUSTODY OF HARRY. IF NEITHER SIRIUS NOR REMUS IS ALIVE TO CARE FOR HIM, HIS CARE SHOULD BE GIVEN OVER TO ALICE ANNE NOTT LONGBOTTOM AND HER HUSBAND FRANK ANDREW LONGBOTTOM. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD PETUNIA ANGELICA EVANS DURSLEY OR HER HUSBAND VERNON WILLIAM DURSLEY BE ALLOWED CUSTODY OR CONTACT WITH HARRY AT ANY TIME._

_TO THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE, WE BEQUEATH OUR TREASURES:_

_TO ALBUS DUMBLEDORE WE BEQUEATH 50,000 GALLEONS TO HELP THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX AND THE WAR AGAINST VOLDEMORT._

_TO THE EILEEN PRINCE SCHOLARSHIP FUND WE BEQUEATH 25,000 GALLEONS TO HELP WITH THE SCHOOLING OF NEEDY MAGICAL STUDENTS._

_TO SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE, LILY BEQUEATHS 20,000 GALLEONS AND ASKS THAT HE FORGIVE HER FOR HER STUBBORNNESS AND PRIDE. I FORGIVE YOU YOUR WORDS, MY FRIEND, AND JAMES OFFERS HIS APOLOGY FOR HIS TREATMENT OF YOU._

_TO MINERVA MCGONAGALL WE LEAVE A COPY OF __THE NATURAL ANIMAGUS__, WRITTEN BY JAMES AND SIRIUS AFTER THEY GRADUATED, MAY IT HELP WITH YOUR TRANFIGURATION STUDENTS._

_TO OUR GODSON, NEVILLE FRANKLIN LONGBOTTOM, WE BEQUEATH 50,000 GALLEONS._

_TO REMUS JOHN LUPIN WE LEAVE 50,000 GALLEONS TO PURCHASE WOLFSBANE POTION. WE WOULD LEAVE YOU PROPERTY BUT THE MINISTRY WOULD CONFISCATE IT. THANK YOU FOR BEING A LOYAL FRIEND._

_TO SIRIUS ORION BLACK, AS PER YOUR REQUEST, WE BEQUEATH TO YOU A SINGLE KNUT, AND OUR GREATEST TREASURE, OUR SON, HARRY JAMES POTTER. WE KNOW YOU WILL RAISE HIM WELL._

_TO PETTER GEORGE PETTIGREW, WE THANK YOU FOR BEING OUR FRIEND AND OUR SECRET KEEPER, WE LEAVE 75,000 GALLEONS IN HOPES THAT YOU WILL USE IT TO CURE YOUR MOTHER. _

"What? Read that part again!" Lupin cut in, startling the others in the room.

Gridlok cleared his throat and re-read the passage. Lupin grumbled under his breath, and Gridlok continued with the reading of the will:

_FINALLY, TO OUR SON, HARRY JAMES POTTER, WE LEAVE THE REMAINDER OF OUR MONEY AND ALL OF OUR POSESSIONS. WE WILL MISS YOU SON AND WILL ALWAYS WATCH OVER YOU. WE LOVE YOU._

_SIGNED THIS 20__TH__ DAY OF OCTOBER, 1981_

_JAMES CHARLUS POTTER_

_LILY MARIE EVANS POTTER_

_WITNESSES: FRANKLIN GEORGE LONGBOTTOM_

_ALICE ANNE NOTT LONGBOTTOM_

_GRELDOK GRIPHOOK – SENIOR ACCOUNTS MANAGER, POTTER ACCOUNT MANAGER, GRINGOTTS BRITAIN._

Gridlok rolled up the scroll and looked around at the silent room.

-oOo-

A/N: Well, there you have it, another chapter done. This one is my longest so far at 14 pages. I already have plans for the next chapter, never fear.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_A PERSONAL NOTE TO GUEST READERS: IF I CANNOT REPLY TO YOUR REVIEW IN PRIVATE, I WON'T REPLY TO IT IN THE FICS EITHER. I APPRECIATE YOUR REVIEWS, BUT IF YOU ASK ME A QUESTION, IT IS QUITE DIFFICULT TO RESPOND IF I CANNOT PM YOU. THIS IS ALSO FOR THOSE REVIEWERS WHO HAVE PRIVATE MESSAGING BLOCKED._

_Anyhow, I do want to make one clarification that a reader pointed out to me. I have a confusion in the previous chapter where the goblins refer to Harry as Hadrian. This will be corrected when the story is done and I re-edit everything. Just note that this Harry is Harry, not Hadrian. His ancestor is Hadrian. Hope that clears things up. _

**Chapter 10: Discoveries and Revelations**

_The Burrow, Surrey England, November 2nd, 1992_

Molly Weasley was preparing breakfast for herself and her husband, who was at that moment reading the Daily Prophet as he sipped his morning tea. Arthur lowered his paper at the sound of the floo activating.

"Dad?" Bill Weasley's voice sounded from the next room, "Dad can I come through?"

Arthur trotted into the living room where the fireplace was and saw his son's head sitting amid the green flames. "Yes, of course, you don't have to ask, you know."

A moment later, a tall red-haired man with a dragon-fang earring stepped through, chuckling lightly. "I'll always ask dad, especially after what happened last time," Bill replied, remembering two months before when he'd come through the floo to find his parents celebrating Ginny's start at Hogwarts. Never again would he come through the floo unannounced, he didn't want any more images of _that_ in his brain.

Arthur blushed at his son's reference, and sat down in his favorite armchair. "What can I do for you, son?"

Bill sank down onto the couch. "Well, I found out something interesting today," he began. "I overheard a couple of goblins laughing about pulling the wool over the ministry's eyes. Turns out the ministry passed a law a couple months ago forcing Gringotts to turn over all accounts that are in stasis and extinct in the male line. From the way the goblins were talking, they were especially interested in the Potter account."

Arthur nodded his head. "Lucius Malfoy has been putting pressure on the minister to confiscate retired accounts, a 're-distribution of the wealth' as he calls it. He has convinced the minister that money from delinquent accounts is not safe in Goblin hands."

"I know, the Goblins have been working overtime trying to find heirs, even the most distant who are legally able to inherit. Poor Lucius is going to be in quite a snit when he finds out the Goblins have discovered that the Potter heir is alive and well," Bill chuckled.

"What? How is that possible?" Arthur was flabbergasted.

"Apparently he wasn't the fourth body in the crash. The goblins are still investigating what happened, but so far as we have been able to discover, the fourth body was that of another muggle boy," he paused and took a deep breath, "dad, when were you planning to tell Mum about the betrothal contract?"

)-oOo-(

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, November 2__nd__, 1992 – Great Hall_

Severus Snape choked on a bite of his corned beef on rye when an owl swooped in and deposited a letter in the middle of his plate. Albus Dumbledore gave him a strong wollop in the center of his back, dislodging the chunk of sandwich from his throat. He muttered a hoarse "thanks," and picked up the letter, carefully wiping the catsup off. He raised a stunned eyebrow when he saw the Gringotts logo on the front. What could they want with him, he wondered. Using the butterknife beside his plate, he carefully slit the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of parchment.

_Greetings Professor Snape, your presence is required at the reading of the Will of James and Lily Potter on November 7__th__ at 3 P.M. Please do not be late._

_Sincerely,_

_Greldok Griphook, Senior Accounts Manager, Potter Account Manager, Gringotts Britain_

The parchment fluttered to the floor from his suddenly slack fingers. Lily and James had named him in their will? There must be some mistake. He scooped up the parchment and left the room, his lunch forgotten.

Minerva McGonagall watched him go, wondering what sort of news could have upset the dour young man so deeply. Noticing a letter beside her plate, she picked it up and opened it, too distracted to look at the seal.

_Greetings Professor McGonagall, your presence is required at the reading of the Will of James and Lily Potter on November 7__th__ at 3 P.M. Please do not be late._

_Sincerely,_

_Greldok Griphook, Senior Accounts Manager, Potter Account Manager, Gringotts Britain_

"This can't be right!" she read the parchment again, "Albus, have you seen this?"

)-oOo-(

_Ministry of Magic, Minister's Office, London England November 2nd, 1992_

Cornelius Fudge was sitting behind his desk, sharing tea with his friend and donor, Lucius Malfoy when his Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge stormed into the room.

"Tell me it isn't true!" she demanded, waving a piece of parchment in his face.

"What isn't true?" Cornelius asked, thoroughly confused.

Dolores Umbridge paused and took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. She held out the parchment to her boss. "This arrived from Gringotts right before lunch. I just now got around to opening it."

Minister Fudge scanned the parchment, his face growing white and then red as he read. He shook his head, "there must be some mistake, get Mr. Griphook in here, I wish to speak to him at once." Umbridge nodded and hurried out.

Lucius looked at the minister, wondering what sort of news could have this kind of reaction and how he could benefit from it. "What happened, my friend?" he enquired in a smooth voice. Cornelius just shook his head as he handed Lucius the parchment to read. Lucius Malfoy's face lost the little color he had as he read the words on the page:

GREETINGS MINISTER FUDGE, IT IS MY DUTY TO INFORM YOU THAT WE CANNOT TURN OVER THE VAULT BELONGING TO THE ANCIENT AND NOBLE HOUSE OF POTTER AS THE HEIR HAS BEEN FOUND. AS OF OCTOBER 31, 1992, THE POTTER VAULT HAS BEEN CLAIMED BY HARRY JAMES POTTER, TRUE HEIR TO THE HOUSE POTTER. THIS HAS BEEN VERIFIED ACCURATE THROUGH THE RITE OF INHERITANCE AND CANNOT BE OVERTURNED.

SINCERELY,

GRELDOK GRIPHOOK, SENIOR ACCOUNTS MANAGER, POTTER ACCOUNT MANAGER, GRINGOTTS BRITAIN

"NO! This can't be, tell me there is some mistake, minister," Lucius demanded, attempting to keep the panic out of his voice. He'd planned carefully how to use this to his advantage. He had to refill the house coffers before Narcissa found out. He'd schemed for months how to get his hands on the Potter fortune, which was rumored to be quite vast. Once the vault was turned over, he'd planned to contrive crimes that house Potter supposedly committed against house Malfoy over the centuries. With his control over the Wizengamot, he was sure he could obtain at least half of the Potter fortune. Narcissa would never have to know that he'd gambled away her inheritance and his.

"Calm yourself, Lucius, I'm sure this is just some misunderstanding or the Goblins playing games. Harry Potter is dead, aurors confirmed it years ago," Cornelius Fudge soothed his friend, wondering why the news had upset him so greatly. It wasn't like Malfoy would get access to the Potter vault. That money would go to the ministry, and to Fudge's personal re-election fund.

The two men silently fretted for several minutes before Dolores Umbridge rushed in, a rather irritated goblin following in her wake.

"Minister, I have brought Grenog Graphook, the Potter accounts manager," she sneered down at the goblin who glared.

"My name is _Greldok Griphook, _not Grenog Graphook. I am the account manager for the Potter vault and I am quite busy, so make this quick," Griphook snarled. He hated the Umbridge woman with a passion. Her blatant hatred for anything non-human and non-pureblood was well known. He smirked as he thought about the little known fact that her real father was a muggle baker. Only Andrew Umbridge and the goblins knew that dirty little fact. Andrew was well aware of his wife's infidelity and had long since stricken his unsuspecting daughter from his will.

Cornelius Fudge held up the paper before him, "what is the meaning of this? Harry Potter is dead. This is obviously some trick to undermine wizarding law. I demand you hand that vault over to the Ministry at once." He stood up, banging his fist on the table as he spoke the last words.

"There is no trick," Griphook stated. If the minister couldn't be polite, there was no reason he should have to either. "At two twenty-nine P.M. Pacific Coast Standard time, Harry James Potter-Stevens, sole surviving heir to house Potter signed documents stating that he was the true and rightful heir. The vault is no longer in stasis and therefore no longer conforms to British wizarding laws." Griphook snarled, pleased that no matter what the Minister tried, the vault was beyond his reach.

"Riddiculous, Harry Potter died in a car accident when he was four," Lucius Malfoy cut in, "this person is obviously an imposter."

"You are the one who is ridiculous, sir, we at Gringotts performed the exact same inheritance tests that you underwent when you reached fifteen years of age. There is no mistake, Harry James Potter lives," Griphook stated, his calm voice belying his anger.

"I demand to see your records regarding the Potter account. This has to be a trick," Dolores Umbridge cut in, determined to support the minister.

"I am afraid I cannot do that, madam, not only does client confidentiality prevent me from producing those documents, but the Potter vault is no longer under the control of Gringotts Britain."

"What do you mean it is no longer under the control of Gringotts Britain? Where is it then?" Fudge demanded.

"Maybe I should clarify. I am the former account manager for the Potter family vaults, the vault has been transferred to Mr. Potter's home country and is under the care of a new manager." He grinned, baring his teeth, I could give you the manager's name, but I can guarantee it will make no difference. The British Ministry of Magic has no influence of Gringotts America or the American Ministry of Magic. Now, I must return to my office, I have clients waiting," on those words, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

"Auror's arrest that Goblin!" Fudge bellowed. Kingsley Shacklebolt moved toward the goblin, but Griphook turned and held up his hand, "touch me and the Goblin Nation goes to war with Wizarding Britain again." Kingsley paused, uncertain what he should do and in that moment Griphook tossed in a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fire, shouting "Gringotts – Floo reception." With a swirl of green fire, he disappeared.

)-oOo-

A/N: Well, folks another chapter for you to enjoy. My muse is really working overtime this weekend. Perhaps this will become a trend.

For those of you who asked why Ginny ended up in Ravenclaw instead of Hufflepuff or Griffindor, it will be explained eventually.

For those who want to know how Harry is going to meet Hermione and Ginny, it is coming…in a few chapters.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_Just a note: If I cannot reply to you in person about your review, then I won't reply at all, so if you expect a reply, turn on your private messaging._

**Anyhow, yes, he knows he's Harry Potter now. He doesn't know what that means yet though. Also, I will keep referring to him as Jamie because that is how he thinks of himself. He doesn't remember much about being Harry and is more comfortable being Jamie.**

**Chapter 11: Questions and Answers**

_MSML, Montana November 6th, 1992_

"I want five pages on the different types of shields and the curses they block. To be on my desk before class on Wednesday," Remus Lupin told the class as they gathered books and piled them into their bags. He watched as the students filed out in groups of two or three and was unsurprised to see that Jamie had stayed behind.

"Professor, I was hoping you had time to tell me a bit more about my real parents. I love my mom, but it seems important to know about my real parents too. How did they die?" Jamie asked.

Lupin sighed. He should have expected this would be the first question Jamie asked. "Do you have another class?"

"No, sir, this is my last class for the day. I'm sorry I asked, you must still miss them," Jamie replied quietly.

"No, no, it's not a problem. Come to my office and I would be happy to tell you about James and Lily," Lupin headed for the door, Jamie following in his wake. "You know," he said casually, "I wondered if you were little Harry when I first saw you. You are the spitting image of your father, except for your eyes, you have Lily's eyes – and her smile too."

"Really?" Jamie had no idea it would feel so good to have something in common with the parents he barely remembered.

Lupin opened his office door, nodding at Professor Jordan who was wearing workout gear and grading papers. She smiled and nodded back, pursing her lips as she perused a paper marked heavily in green ink. She didn't believe in using red ink for corrections, she felt it made students feel bad about themselves. She insisted green was a much happier color.

"Good evening Professor Jordan," Jamie greeted her politely.

"Good evening, Jamie, Remus," she smiled cordially, turning back to her paperwork.

"Candace, Jamie and I have matters to speak of, I'm leaving the door open a crack, could you see that we are not disturbed?" Lupin asked as he passed his crystal wand over his door. There was an audible click and the door swung open to reveal a lushly appointed office.

Jamie goggled, not hearing Professor Jordan's reply. He'd never seen Professor Lupin's office before. It was decorated in dark blue with soft gray tones accenting on the walls and furniture. The shag carpet was a plush steel gray that sank an inch as he walked across it to the padded chair across from Lupin's desk. Professor Lupin walked over to a cupboard and opened it, peering inside. He turned back, holding up a can of Sprite. "Soda?"

Jamie looked at the green can. "Do you have Pepsi?"

"No, I have A&W Rootbeer though. I don't have anything with caffeine, it aggravates the wolf," Lupin replied.

"Oh. I'll just have a Sprite then, I guess, Jamie answered, taking the chilled can and wondering how the Professor kept the cans cold in the cupboard.

As though reading his mind, Lupin answered him, "chilling charm."

"What was that, sir?"

"I noticed you staring at the can. I figured you were wondering why it was cold. The cupboard is charmed with a chilling charm, it keeps everything inside it cold," Lupin explained.

"Cool. When do we learn that?" Jamie asked. It seemed like it could be a very useful charm to know.

"Next year in charms. It is one of the spells on the fifth year final exam."

"That's when we start having Practical exams, right?" Jamie asked, popping the tab on his can of soda.

"Yeah, next year is primarily practical applications of the things you have learned over the first four years. Once you pass that, you can move on to the upper levels. You will get some practical practice this year, but it will be mixed with more theory. Fifth year is learning to apply the theory in a practical setting," Lupin explained, pouring his Sprite into an ice-filled crystal glass.

"That sounds interesting. Theory is okay, but I really like actually doing things. Were you going to tell me about my parents?" Jamie led the conversation back to Lily and James Potter.

"Sure, but I think it is best to tell you how they lived first before I tell you how they died," he sighed. "I met Lily and James on the train to Hogwarts. You've heard of Hogwarts, right?"

"Isn't that the British school of magic? We learned a little about the foreign schools last year. That's the one that was founded by four wizards, right?" Jamie asked.

"Yes. I'll tell you more about the history of Hogwarts later. Anyway, I'm sitting alone in the last compartment on the train when two black-haired boys come tumbling into the room, James Potter and Sirius Black. They too had only just met, but they instantly became friends James and Sirius started a game of Exploding Snap. I would have joined them, but I was still recovering from the effects of the full-moon. They'd been playing for a while when this red-headed girl comes in, towing a skinny black-haired boy in second-hand clothing. That was the first time I met Lily Evans and Severus Snape. They'd been best friends for two years and discovered magic together before they ever got their Hogwarts letters."

"So, you guys were all friends right from the start?" Jamie asked, leaning forward with interest.

"I'm afraid it didn't quite work that way, you see, James took an instant liking to Lily and was always trying to do things to impress her, but he went about it all wrong. He was jealous of the time and attention Lily gave to her other friends, especially Severus. Severus came from a poor and abusive family. He wasn't muggleborn, but he might as well have been. His father was a muggle who worked in a factory and his mother was a pure-blood witch who'd been disowned for marrying a muggle. From the tidbits Lily dropped, Severus' father was an abusive alcoholic and frequently beat his wife and son. Severus might have turned out alright if James and Sirius hadn't started tormenting him right from the start. They wouldn't just harass him for his clothing and his speech, they started playing pranks on him too. James grew up in a rich family and every son always ended up in Griffindor house, so it was no surprise when James did too. The problem was that Severus was sorted into Slytherin house. He told Lily later that the sorting hat had wanted to put him in Ravenclaw, but his mother had been a Slytherin and he wanted to make her proud. Severus adored his mother. From what I can tell, she did everything she could to protect her son from the father's abuses and taught him everything she knew about magic. Griffindor and Slytherin houses have been at odds with each other since the time of the founders, so James saw no problem with playing pranks on all the members of Slytherin. Unfortunately the fact that Severus was small and skinny, combined with the fact that James was jealous of his friendship with Lily made him the focus of many of the pranks, quite a few of which I'm ashamed to say weren't very nice." Lupin sighed again and took another sip of Sprite.

"I bet Lily didn't like James picking on her best friend," Jamie speculated, knowing how he felt whenever the girls in Red Dorm teased Cassandra.

"No. She hated James Potter from the first moment he slandered Severus. I was friends with her first, you know. Both of us were more studious than most of the Griffindors, and often worked together on homework in the library with Severus. It wasn't until third year that I became friends with James. We shared a dorm, you see, and they'd found out my secret. I am a werewolf and it was only by the grace of Headmaster Dumbledore that I was allowed a wizards education. I expected them to turn me in, or harass me like they did Severus, but they never did. Lily had figured out my secret first, but I didn't know that until the next year. James, Sirius, and their friend Peter decided that I shouldn't have to be alone during the full moon, this was before wolfsbane was invented, you understand, so the three of them conspired to become animagi," he smiled at the memory.

"Animagi? I thought that was an inborn talent," Jamie asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It was always assumed to be, but when all three of them learned to do it, in less than two years, mind you, James decided it must be a learnable trait. Anyway, that's when I became friends with your father –" his words were interrupted by the sound of the dinner bell.

"If my mother hated my father, how did they get together?" Jamie questioned, he wasn't too sure he liked this James Potter.

"Come back after class next Friday and I will tell you more. For now, we need to head to the dining hall. You wouldn't want to miss dinner," Lupin stood and escorted Jamie from the room.

)-oOo-(

_Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts Castle, November 6th, 1992_

**I'm worried, Tom. I woke up in Myrtle's bathroom with blood all over me. It took me over an hour to wash it all out and I was late for Tranfiguration.**

_Perhaps someone is playing a prank on you. Maybe those twin brothers of yours? You did say they loved to play pranks on people._

**I don't know. Why would they do something like that. It was horrible and scary.**

_Maybe they aren't as keen on you being in Ravenclaw as they led you to believe. I still say you should go to your head of house and ask to be re-sorted. I am sure if you ask the hat it will put you into Slytherin._

**I've never known Fred and George to play such a downright cruel prank. Luna says I should go to the headmaster. She thinks there is something sinister at work.**

_She's just imagining things, after all, there haven't been any more petrifications since the cat have there? You did say she had quite a fanciful imagination._

**I suppose you are right, Tom. I just – I'm scared, Tom. I'm still having black-outs. Maybe I should see the school nurse.**

_Are you really sure that is necessary. She'll just want to pour a bunch of nasty potions down your throat and then keep you there for several days, then you'll be even more behind on your school work than you already are._

**You are probably right. I thought school was going to be different. I mean look at Professor Lockheart. All we learn about in his class is all the things he has done and his favorite colors and the fact that he was winner Witch Weekly's most charming smile award for I can't remember how many years running. How does that help us learn to defend ourselves from dark wizards?**

_He sounds like a fraud. I can teach you to protect yourself. _

**You can? Really?**

_Sure, I have a seventh-year education. I can even teach you some pranks your brothers don't know. _

**Okay. Maybe you can help me improve my grades. Oh, did I tell you, Percy apologized yesterday for being a prat. He said he guesses if I had to be in any house other than Griffindor, he's glad it was Ravenclaw. He even offered to help me with homework when he's not busy.**

_Really? I doubt he will have much time for you though, Isn't he taking all of the electives?_

**Yeah, he wants to get a job at the Ministry of Magic. That has always been his dream. He wants to be like dad, he says. Penny says he finally asked her out to the next Hogsmeade trip. She was so thrilled.**

_You know, if she starts dating him she won't have time for you anymore._

**I know you are wrong. She promised she'd always be there if I had problems. I'm sure she will still make time for me too.**

_She was probably just being your friend so she could get close to your brother. Now that they are dating, she won't want to be seen hanging around with a first-year. I'll be here to pick up the pieces when you find out she was just using you._

**That can't be true. Penny is my friend. She, Luna, and Hermione are the only friends I have except for you.**

_Luna's only your friend because no one else will hang around with you. If she had another friend she'd probably drop you too. People are only your friends if you have something they want. The moment they don't need what you have anymore, they won't have anything to do with you anymore. Take that Granger girl. The only reason she's your friend is because you let her boss you around. If you stood up to her and told her off for being such a bossy know-it-all, she wouldn't want to be your friend anymore. She doesn't understand what friendship is, but I do._

**I think you are wrong. Are you going to teach me any spells tonight?**

_Not tonight. It is getting late and you need your sleep. Think about the things I said. They aren't really your friends. I'm your only true friend. Goodnight, Ginny._

**Goodnight, Tom.**

Ginny closed the diary and slid it under her pillow. He wasn't her only friend. Jamie was her friend too, but she felt uncomfortable telling Tom about him. He'd probably think she was crazy, like Luna. She shook her head. No, Luna wasn't crazy, just eccentric. She wondered what was wrong with Jamie. They hadn't spoken in weeks. She could still see him, but it was as though they were separated by a veil. She sighed and pulled up the blue comforter over her shoulders. Ravenclaw tower was rather drafty she noticed.

Luna Lovegood looked over at her friend's bed with a worried frown. There was something different about Ginny. She could see the Nargles gathering around the red-head more and more as the weeks went by, and she knew they were disrupting her concentration. She glared at the now closed curtains. She was sure it had something to do with that diary Ginny was writing in. The thing had a slimy greenish-black aura that reminded her of swamp muck. It was too bad she hadn't been able to get it away from Ginny, but the girl always kept it with her.

)-oOo-(

_The Burrow, England, November 7th, 1992_

Bill finished the breakfast his mum had placed before him and motioned his dad outside. He'd arrived shortly after dawn. The two men, one tall, one slightly shorter, slipped into the tool shed out back. Bill sat down on the hood of the Ford Anglia his dad had been tinkering with for years. "They let me have a copy of the contract to show you. I can't believe you don't remember signing it," Bill spoke quietly, hoping his mother wasn't in the chicken shed next door.

"Let me see that!" Arthur snatched the document from his son and peered down at it, blanching as he read:

**Betrothal Agreement**

**It has been decided that Harry James Potter, son of James Charlus Potter and Lily Marie Evans Potter shall wed Ginevra Molly Weasley, Daughter of Arthur Septimus Weasley and Molly Abigail Prewitt Weasley within one year after Ginevra, the younger of the two attains the age of 17. **

**Signed this 11th day of August, 1981**

**Arthur Septimus Weasley**

**James Charlus Potter**

**Witnessed by: **

**Sirius Orion Black**

**Franklin George Longbottom**

**Patrick Williams – Natal Nurse, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies**

**Ibrake Needlenek – Contracts Manager, Gringotts Britain**

"August 11th, 1981. The night Ginny was born," Arthur muttered. "The Potters came to see us. It was the day before they were to go into hiding. Sirius Black was still with him. We went down to the cafeteria and Sirius bought drinks. I don't remember anything after that night. Your mum made me sleep on the couch for a week. Said we, James, Sirius and I, came back to the hospital room reeking of fire whiskey and singing inappropriate songs. She was appalled by our behavior. Oh, she's going to kill me when she sees this."

"Sees what, dear?" Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded from the doorway.

)-oOo-

A/N: Well folks, thought I'd stop the chapter here. Next chapter will get into the reading of the will and the reactions of certain people.

Tom is really working on Ginny isn't he? We will see what happens with that as time goes on.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_A/N: HeHe, I thought about waiting one more chapter before tackling the will, but…I decided not to torture my loyal readers any more. _

_I know some of you were hoping I would get this chapter out immediately, but I have not been feeling well the last few days. So, here it is._

**Chapter 12: The Reading of the Potter Will**

_Gringotts Bank, receiving lobby, Gringotts Britain, November 7__th__,1992; 2:50 P.M._

Albus Dumbledore paced back and forth, a frown furrowed on his brow, and a recent copy of _The Daily Prophet _crushed in his fist. Why was the will being read now? Was it true that Harry Potter was alive? Was this just some elaborate hoax by the goblins in their attempts to thwart ministry controls? If the boy was alive, why hadn't he been able to find him? Who all was going to be at this meeting? He assumed Remus Lupin would be there, as well as Minerva and Himself, but he wondered if anyone else would be there? Pettigrew was dead and Black was in prison. The boy might be there, he supposed, if he was still alive. He was thrown from his thoughts as the floo flared and Minerva McGonagall stepped out, dusting soot off her school robes. The floo flared again and another person stepped out, one Dumbledore hadn't expected to see.

"Severus, my boy, what are you doing here?" he asked the dour young man.

"The same as you, I presume. It appears I was named as a beneficiary in the Potter will. I cannot fathom why," Snape's face briefly flashed with annoyance before resuming its indifferent mask.

A third flare of the floo distracted them, and Neville Longbottom stepped out with his Grandmother who was preceeded by a rather unsightly green hat adorned with a life-sized stuffed vulture.

"Augusta!" Minerva McGonagall stepped forward and greeted her long-time friend with a robust hug. Augusta's dour face twisted into a wry smile for a moment before returning to a forbidding expression.

"Minerva, it has been a long time," Augusta returned, stepping away from her grandson who was vigorously shaking soot from his robes. A cloud of soot and floo powder hovered in the air around the boy, threatening to contaminate any it touched. "Neville, would you mind brushing it to the floor instead of shaking it everywhere?" she chided him.

Neville blushed crimson and mumbled an apology as he half-heartedly tried to brush the remaining soot from his robes.

A goblin came in, his face bisected with multiple deep scars. "Ah, I see you are all here, all except two," he looked around. "Nevermind, we weren't really expecting those two to turn up anyway. Follow me, please." He turned on his heel and exited the room without a backward glance.

As though by some unseen signal, they fell into line behind the goblin. Albus was first, followed by Minerva, Augusta, Severus, and finally Neville who looked terrified of being so close to the Potions Professor.

They were just starting across the lobby when a loud voice drew their notice.

"What is the meaning of sending this to my son! Scaring the poor boy half to death sending him a letter to a dead man, what were you thinking!" Molly Weasley was ranting at a speechless goblin, and waving a letter in his face. Albus turned, intending to discover what was happening when the sharp voice of the goblin had him turning back.

"Please keep up, leave the other patrons to their business," the goblin admonished. Albus didn't even have the grace to blush. Though he did stop in shock at Molly's next words, causing those walking behind him to crash into one another.

"Peter Pettigrew has been dead for eleven years and he has never lived in my house, so tell me why my son is receiving mail from Gringotts with his name on it!" Her voice was getting more shrill as she realized the goblin before her was either deaf or ignoring her. Only his low response, heard only because they were passing almost directly behind his counter, proved him otherwise. "If I may see the letter, Madam?" Startled, Molly thrust the letter at him. He glanced over it and then handed it back to her. "Everything appears to be correct. If the recipient doesn't live at the given address, you need to take it up with our department of inheritance as they are the ones that issued the letter. You can make an appointment at that desk over there," he pointed one long, bony finger at a small table with a scroll and quill on it. Molly, unsure what to say, just nodded and moved off toward the table.

Another quick "come along," from the goblin guiding them got them moving again and soon they found themselves being ushered into an opulent chamber. The entire room appeared to have been fashioned in marble and onyx, the startling contrast of black and white giving the room an air of elegance. Even the chairs, which, unlike everything else in the room, were not made of stone, were a contrast of blacks and whites. The only splash of color in the room was the goblin sitting in the chair behind the desk. He wore a blinding red uniform decorated with many bars and seals.

"Mighty Alderstroke, I have brought the ones you requested for the reading of the Potter will," the goblin who had led them into the room bowed and exited.

"Perhaps I am mistaken, but isn't Griphook the accounts manager for the Potters?" Dumbledore broke in, wondering what on earth was going on? "I thought the Potter will had been sealed. Is Harry Potter alive then?"

Alderstroke glared down at Dumbledore. "The will was unsealed when we realized that not only was the Potter heir alive, but as the last remaining member of an Ancient and Noble bloodline, the boy had the right to know about his heritage in enough time to train for his responsibilities should he choose to take them up."  
"Alive? The _Prophet _was right then, Harry Potter is alive?" Minerva's voice quavered on the verge of tears.

"Yes, madam, the boy once known as Harry Potter still lives and has made it known that he wishes his parents bequests to be honored, so if you will all have a seat, we may begin," Alderstroke demanded.

Severus sat heavily in one of the black chairs, his mind whirling as he tried to process everything. Lily's son was alive? How was Dumbledore unaware of this? What was all that commotion about Peter Pettigrew? As far as he was aware, Gringotts didn't make mistakes like that. Was Pettigrew still alive? What did he have to do with the Weasleys?

"Mr. Snape? Mr. Snape?" Alderstroke's gravelly voice drew him out of his thoughts.

"If you are ready, we will proceed with the reading of the will belonging to James and Lily Potter," he cleared his throat and unrolled a scroll which he began to read from:

_**WE, JAMES CHARLUS POTTER, AND LILY MARIE EVANS POTTER, BEING OF SOUND MIND AND HEALTHY BODY DO DECLARE THAT THIS IS OUR LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT. NATURALLY WE HOPE THAT WE WILL SURVIVE THIS WAR AND RAISE HARRY OURSELVES, BUT SHOULD THE WORST HAPPEN, WE APPOINT SIRIUS ORION BLACK, GODFATHER TO HARRY JAMES POTTER AS HIS LEGAL GUARDIAN, GUARD HIM WELL, PADFOOT. SHOULD THE WORST HAPPEN AND SIRIUS NOT BE AVAILABLE TO CARE FOR OUR SON, WE ASK THAT REMUS JOHN LUPIN BE GIVEN CUSTODY OF HARRY. IF NEITHER SIRIUS NOR REMUS IS ALIVE TO CARE FOR HIM, HIS CARE SHOULD BE GIVEN OVER TO ALICE ANNE NOTT LONGBOTTOM AND HER HUSBAND FRANK ANDREW LONGBOTTOM. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD PETUNIA ANGELICA EVANS DURSLEY OR HER HUSBAND VERNON WILLIAM DURSLEY BE ALLOWED CUSTODY OR CONTACT WITH HARRY AT ANY TIME.**_

"I told you they were the worst sort of Muggles, Albus!" Minerva hissed.

_**TO THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE, WE BEQUEATH OUR TREASURES:**_

_**TO ALBUS DUMBLEDORE WE BEQUEATH 50,000 GALLEONS TO HELP THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX AND THE WAR AGAINST VOLDEMORT.**_

Greldok gestured with one hand and a sack of galleons floated over to Albus.

_**TO THE EILEEN PRINCE SCHOLARSHIP FUND WE BEQUEATH 25,000 GALLEONS TO HELP WITH THE SCHOOLING OF NEEDY MAGICAL STUDENTS.**_

_**TO SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE, LILY BEQUEATHS 20,000 GALLEONS AND ASKS THAT HE FORGIVE HER FOR HER STUBBORNNESS AND PRIDE. I FORGIVE YOU YOUR WORDS, MY FRIEND, AND JAMES OFFERS HIS APOLOGY FOR HIS TREATMENT OF YOU.**_

The stunned Potions Professor watched as two large bags of galleons floated to him, settling into his lap. The slightly fuller bag was, he knew, for the scholarship fund he and Lily had established in his fifth year when she realized there were many more needy witches and wizards who deserved a quality education. James had apologized? The world must have ended. That was the only reason Severus could think of for why his nemesis had done such a thing.

_**TO MINERVA MCGONAGALL WE LEAVE A COPY OF **__**THE NATURAL ANIMAGUS**__**, WRITTEN BY JAMES AND SIRIUS AFTER THEY GRADUATED, MAY IT HELP WITH YOUR TRANFIGURATION STUDENTS.**_

The normally strict professor burst into tears as a thick book gently settled itself in her lap. Through her tears, she could barely make out the words on the cover:

_Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs Present:_

_THE NATURAL ANIMAGUS – A Guide to Finding Your Inner Animal_. She ran a shaking hand over the cover upon which was embossed a dog, rat, stag, and, startlingly a very familiar cat.

_**TO OUR GODSON, NEVILLE FRANKLIN LONGBOTTOM, WE BEQUEATH 50,000 GALLEONS.**_

Neville took the floating bag of coins with shaky hands, his eyes watery as he tried to control himself in front of his grandmother. She just smiled down at him with a pleased expression.

_**TO REMUS JOHN LUPIN WE LEAVE 50,000 GALLEONS TO PURCHASE WOLFSBANE POTION. WE WOULD LEAVE YOU PROPERTY BUT THE MINISTRY WOULD CONFISCATE IT. THANK YOU FOR BEING A LOYAL FRIEND.**_

"Mr. Lupin has already been contacted and received his bequest, and so was not required to be present at this meeting," Alderstroke explained.

_**TO SIRIUS ORION BLACK, AS PER YOUR REQUEST, WE BEQUEATH TO YOU A SINGLE KNUT, AND OUR GREATEST TREASURE, OUR SON, HARRY JAMES POTTER. WE KNOW YOU WILL RAISE HIM WELL.**_

_**TO PETER GEORGE PETTIGREW, WE THANK YOU FOR BEING OUR FRIEND AND OUR SECRET KEEPER, WE LEAVE 75,000 GALLEONS IN HOPES THAT YOU WILL USE IT TO CURE YOUR MOTHER. **_

"Secret keeper? Albus, I thought you said Black was the secret keeper?" Severus' voice was harsh from shock.

"I thought he was. Lily and James must have changed it at the last minute. I will have to look into matters further."

"Albus, does this mean that S-Sirius Black is innocent?" Minerva stammered in a broken whisper.

"I don't know, but it certainly sheds light on that possibility," Albus replied, cursing silently to himself.

"You mean we may have sent an innocent man to Azkaban for eleven years, and without a trial?" Augusta's words were shocked, shocked and angry. "I trusted your word, Albus –" she trailed off, overcome with horror.

Dumbledore cursed silently again, wondering how he was ever going to fix this mess. First he lost Harry Potter and had him declared dead only to turn up alive somewhere, and then his determination to punish James and Lily's betrayal may have sentenced an innocent man to hell on earth.

Alderstroke cleared his throat, "if I may continue?" At their nods, he resumed reading:

_**FINALLY, TO OUR SON, HARRY JAMES POTTER, WE LEAVE THE REMAINDER OF OUR MONEY AND ALL OF OUR POSSESSIONS. WE WILL MISS YOU SON AND WILL ALWAYS WATCH OVER YOU. WE LOVE YOU.**_

_**SIGNED THIS 20**__**TH**__** DAY OF OCTOBER, 1981**_

_**JAMES CHARLUS POTTER**_

_**LILY MARIE EVANS POTTER**_

_**WITNESSES: FRANKLIN GEORGE LONGBOTTOM**_

_**ALICE ANNE NOTT LONGBOTTOM**_

_**GRELDOK GRIPHOOK – SENIOR ACCOUNTS MANAGER, POTTER ACCOUNT MANAGER, GRINGOTTS BRITAIN.**_

Alderstroke rolled the scroll and with a snap of his fingers, banished it. He smirked at the thunderstruck expressions on the faces of the humans before him. "Does anyone have any questions I can answer for you before you leave?"

Dumbledore's sharp mind recovered swiftly, "I need to know the location and current name of the boy who was called Harry Potter," he demanded.

"I am afraid we at Gringotts are unable to divulge that information per the request of both the client and his mother," Alderstroke replied, hiding a grin. He loved this game.

"Mother? Lily Potter is dead, I presided over the funeral for both her and James myself, who is this mother you speak of?" Dumbledore demanded. Behind him, Augusta and Neville exited the room, one uninterested in Dumbledore's machinations, the other wondering how she was going to salvage her standing with the Wizengamot.

"His adopted mother has requested this, and as his legal guardian, we cannot deny her," Alderstroke replied.

"Is she a witch or a muggle? If she is a muggle, she cannot be his magical guardian, and therefore has no say over his affairs in the wizarding world," Albus demanded to know, praying she was muggle and he could yet salvage this situation.

"She is muggle, but as they have citizenship in a country whose laws do not fall under the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic, and which allows non-wizard parents of muggleborns and half-bloods control over the child's magical life, I cannot divulge any information without permission of his mother and his magical liaison." Alderstroke was struggling to hold back his laughter. It wasn't often someone could pull the rug from under Albus Dumbledore.

"And who, pray tell is his magical liaison?" Severus Snape asked. He hoped to find out how the boy was doing at the very least. He had a life-debt and a promise to keep.

"Remus John Lupin, if you wish to get in contact with him, we can forward a letter on your behalf," Alderstroke suggested.

"Thank you, may your coffers always be filled with gold and all of your enemies fall at your feet," Severus said, offering a bow before sweeping out of the room, black cloak billowing behind him.

Alderstroke looked at Dumbledore and Minerva who were the last to remain. "As much as I would love to answer further questions, I am afraid I have another appointment arriving in ten minutes, but if you would like to send an owl at a later date, I'd be more than happy to exchange more words with you then," he dismissed them.

Shocked beyond words, Minerva could only offer a bow before following in Dumbledore's angry wake.

-A/N)-oOo-(A/N-

A/N: Well, I was going to add some other scenes about other things happening at the same time, but I decided that this chapter was long enough as it is. Hope you are satisfied with how things turned out in this chapter. ;)

**By the way, I want to give an especial thank you to all of my loyal readers. 160 reviews and 334 followers, yay! I promise I won't abandon you, even if sometimes I end up going a while without updating. **

**This means I can officially ignore all those flamers who hate this story due to the pairings. If you don't like my story, that's okay, there are so many others who do!**

-Cosmyk


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Anyone whose name you don't recognize from the books is one of mine. Will be rated 'T' for now. Much later chapters will likely be rated 'M.'_

_A/N: talking with single quotes denotes mental thoughts._

**Chapter 13: Godfathers and Familiars**

_MSML, Montana November 11__th__, 1992_

'Help me.'

Jamie was startled awake by the plea. He sat up in bed, looking around for the voice that had called out. Surprisingly, his roommate was still sleeping soundly in his bed.

'Help me!' the plea was more insistent this time.

"Where are you?" He called out; surprised the voice hadn't awakened Sam who was a very light sleeper. Sam shifted, disturbed by the noise Jamie was making.

'Help me, it hurts!' the voice came again, but this time Jamie realized he wasn't hearing the words with his ears. He reached within, focusing on the core of his magic, and centering himself. He opened his mind up, 'where are you?'

'The forest, by the river, hurry, it hurts,' the voice cried out, plaintively.

Jamie sprang to his feet, and rushed out of the room, careening down three flights of stairs at a speed that would have surprised him had he been paying attention. Whoever it was needed help, and they needed it fast. He burst out the front door of the dormitory, heedless of the screeching alarm that began to claxon behind him. He ran across the frozen field and scrambled over rocks and branches for many minutes before reaching the river. It took him less than a moment after arriving to find the source of the distress. Halfway up a large oak tree, a bird was trapped in an odd device. It appeared gray in the dimness with a strange patterning on its feathers. Its head was trapped in what appeared at first glance to be a muggle snare, and electricity was coursing around the body of the bird. Jamie scaled the tree and began to tug at the snare, trying to find a way to loosen it.

'Don't, that hurts,' the bird said into his mind.

"I can't find an opening," Jamie whispered. He desperately wanted to help this creature, nothing was more important that helping this creature. He felt his magic welling up within him and focused on the snare, willing it to open. There was a blinding flash of light, and the snare snapped with an audible crack, falling into two pieces beside him. The electricity surrounding the bird fell away, all except for its eyes which continued to flash as Jamie stared into the beast's eyes.

The rest of the world fell away, and Jamie found himself merging with the mind of the bird. He felt the exhilarating thrill of streaking through the clouds, dancing amid brilliant flashes of electricity, of the explosive crash of thunder as he translocated from one place to another, the thrill of the hunt as a rabbit was chased across the plain, and then a strange calling, a mouth-watering aroma, and then pain in his wing as he crashed into the tree, seeking a prey that was never there. Finally, he felt the struggle for breath as the snare tightened around the his neck with each struggle, then he saw himself, furiously struggling to save the bird, saw himself blast the snare with sheer raw magic.

'Hello, chosen one, I am Raiden. Thank you for saving me,' the voice was the voice of thunder, of power as it spoke into his mind. 'I have been lonely for so long, but no more, I shall be your familiar, if you will have me.' A feeling of overwhelming love and acceptance flowed into Jamie, and he nodded, tears streaming down his face.

"Jamie? What are you doing up there, child, come down at once!" The voice of Professor Lupin pulled him out of the connection.

"Professor Lupin? Where am I?" Jamie looked around. "How did I get up here? Aargh!" He ended on a wail, clutching his bare feet which were torn and bloody. He was just now noticing the pain. Raiden butted at his arm with his head. Jamie saw a flash in his mind of a damaged wing, 'hurts,' Raiden cried, then a flash of Jamie's feet, 'hurts? I fix, help me down.'

"Professor, Raiden has a damaged wing, could you help us down?" Jamie called down to his professor.

"Raiden?" Lupin asked, he could see the form of something else in the tree with Jamie, but the two were too entangled for him to determine what the other creature was. Suddenly he gasped as a large bird-head with tiny golden horns popped through the leaves, emitting a thunderous shriek.

"Hecate's teeth," Lupin swore. "Hang on, I'll be right up." He could hear the rest of the staff crashing through the bushes and knew they would be there momentarily.

He scaled the tree quickly; thankful for once for the enhanced strength the wolf gave him, even in his human form. Jamie smiled at him as he reached their branch. "Help him down first, he's more hurt," Jamie instructed, motioning toward the bird. Lupin eyed the bird. Up close it was half his size and he knew it would be a challenge to extract it from the tree without further damage.

"Hold still," he commanded them, drawing his crystal wand from its sheath. He pointed it at the branches surrounding them and with a gesture, the branches slid away, wrapping themselves upwards into the canopy. Lupin lunged forward, catching the bird as it began to fall, its wing no longer twisted among the branches. In one leap, Lupin jumped from the tree, springing to the ground with the injured bird in his arms. He landed in the middle of the teachers, startled to find wands, daggers and swords pointed at him. They were pulled back quickly as the others realized who it was.

"Professor, are you okay?" Jamie's voice called down from above.

"Stevens? Stay where you are, I will get you down," Professor Duncan pointed his dagger at Jamie, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Jamie felt himself lift from the tree. He floated gently to the ground, landing in front of an angry Professor Duncan.

"Why did you leave the dorm before morning without notifying anyone?" Professor Duncan demanded, sheathing his dagger.

"I had to help Raiden," Jamie answered.

"Raiden? Who's that?" Professor Williams asked, pushing to the front of the group, his bleary eyed wife beside him.

Jamie's eyes fell on Elizabeth Williams. He struggled to his feet, wincing. "Professor Williams, he's hurt, you have to help him," he begged, tugging on her arm. He pulled her over to where Lupin was standing, still holding the injured bird.

Elizabeth Williams let out a gasp, "By all that is holy, is that a thunderbird?"

"A thunderbird?"

"Thunderbirds are just a myth."

"Impossible," the teachers all began to talk over one another as Professor Lupin laid the injured creature on the ground where the Care of Magical Creatures instructor could look him over.

"Robert, I need light," Elizabeth Williams called to her husband. He hurried forward, a "Lumos Maxima" lighting the tip of his wand. As the light spilled over the bird, gasps exploded around Jamie and everyone stared in wonder at the creature lying before them. What in the dark had appeared to Jamie to be a gray bird was actually a falcon-like bird of enormous size with feathers of a stormy purple-gray color and wings patterned with black and white lightning bolts. On its head were two tiny silver-colored horns that curled at the top. Its eyes were black with no iris or pupil and a streak of white lightning occasionally broke across the blackness. The bird's left wing, nearly three-feet long, was bent at an awkward angle and several of the wing feathers were broken and oozing blood.

"Oh, you poor thing," Elizabeth Williams gasped, stroking its feathers gently. "It is a thunderbird; I can't see how it can be anything else. Help me get it to my infirmary," she commanded, looking around at the other teachers. "And for heaven's sake, someone get that boy to the hospital wing, his feet are all torn up. Abby, I'm going to need some pain potions, the ones you make for the animals, and one of your bone-knitting potions."

As Professor Lupin scooped Jamie up into his arms and the others hurried away after the Care of Magical Creatures professor, gawking at the legend come to life, Jamie called out, "Professor Duncan, Raiden was caught in a snare. I think the pieces are still in the tree. It was a magical snare, sir."

"Professor Duncan looked at the boy, torn between a need to scold and a need to praise the boy for his bravery. Deciding neither option would be appropriate at the moment, he pointed his dagger at the tree once more, "Accio, snare." A small silver device shot out of the tree and into his hands. He looked down at it and swore loudly and creatively. What was a Class-3 banned snare doing on school grounds?

)-oOo-(

_Azkaban Prison, November 11__th__, 1992_

"Sirius Black, Prisoner number 24118, step forward," the auror commanded, pointing his wand into the depths of the cell. There was an odd movement in the darkest corner of the cell, and a tattered, ragged man with long black hair and beard shuffled forward.

"I suppose you are here to feed me to the dementors? Can't say as I'm surprised, I've been expecting it for years now," the prisoner's voice was cracked and hoarse with disuse.

Another auror stepped forward, a tall black man. In his hands he held a pair of magical shackles. "No, we are here to bring you before the Wizengamot. It seems there is some question as to the validity of some of the charges brought against you."

"About damned time," Sirius Black snarled, holding his hands out before him to accept the cuffs, "I've been waiting eleven years, and nine days for a trial. What changed old Fudgie's mind?"

"New evidence," A perky, feminine voice piped up from the back.

"Hold your tongue, Nymphadora," a grizzled old man commanded, he was very leonine in feature and Sirius wondered if he was a lion animagus. Suddenly the name he'd just heard clicked in his mind.

"Nymphadora? Little Nymphadora Tonks?" He enquired. He'd forgotten his little cousin was all grown up now.

"Don't call me NYMPHADORA!" she snarled, her hair going from orange to scarlet in the wand-light. Sirius chuckled, it was his cousin all right, and just as feisty as ever.

"How'd you manage to make auror? Did you outgrow that clumsy streak?" He enquired.

The only reply was a snarl from her and a chuckle from several of the aurors as they led him out of the prison to the apparition point.

As they stepped out into the light, Black squinted and held his shackled hands before his face in an attempt to protect his eyes from a brightness he hadn't seen in eleven years.

"Someone cover his eyes before he goes blind," Rufus Scrimgeour commanded. Tonks stepped forward and wrapped a gauzy white cloth around his eyes.

"You haven't been in the sunlight for years, it will take time for your eyes to adjust again," she whispered as she tied the cloth. He felt her move up to his left side and take his arm, another auror took his right.

"Transport him to the holding cell and get him something decent to eat," Scrimgeour commanded. For the first time in years, Sirius Black experienced the squeezing, stretching feeling of apparition. The crashing of waves disappeared as did the brightness. Suddenly the blindfold was removed, and he saw the antechambers of the ministry holding cells. He was escorted into a cell and seated on the cot. The moment the aurors had sealed the door, his shackles fell away and vanished, leaving him rubbing his wrists.

)-oOo-(

_Auror Department, British Ministry of Magic, London England, same day_

"It is done, Black is in the holding cell, awaiting tomorrow's trial," Scrimgeour reported to Amelia Bones.

She looked up from her paperwork, her monocle falling from her eye. "I want a healer to see him immediately. He is to be given proper meals and clean clothing, see that it is done. His solicitor wishes to meet with him as soon as he is presentable."

"As you command," Scrimgeour tapped his heels together in a salute and exited. Amelia sighed and shook her head. That man was too serious for his own good. She lifted the monocle back to her eye and began perusing Sirius' file again.

Rufus Scrimgeour hurried into the auror office. "Tonks, Dawlish, Shacklebolt, with me," he commanded.

The three hurried over, gathering around his desk. "Tonks, I want you to go to Saint Mungo's and get a healer over here for Black, ASAP. Make sure they can be trusted."

Tonks nodded and left the department. He turned to Dawlish. "Get Malkin in here right away to fit him with a new robe, the one he has is filthy and in no condition for court." Dawlish hurried away. "Shacklebolt, I want you to go to the kitchens. Have the house elves prepare him a meal in front of you. When that is done, bring the meal to him yourself. Make sure no one slips anything into the food and that no other hand but yours touches it once the elves have prepared it. Under no circumstances should anyone know who the food is for."

"Yes, sir. Are we being too paranoid sir?" Kingsley asked.

"One can never be too paranoid, as my old mentor used to say: 'Constant Vigilance.' Remain just outside the cell once you have brought the food. No one should see the prisoner without first being checked by you. Use the Auror Security Protocols, and double check everyone. I'll have Tonks relieve you at the end of your shift," Scrimgeour instructed. Kingsley saluted and left the office to fulfill his duties.

)-oOo-(

A/N: Well, that's it for this chapter, folks, hope you enjoyed it. What do you think of Jamie's new familiar?


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